


Shadows Of The Past

by SansaStarkSnow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Badass Sansa Stark, F/M, Possessive Jon, Secret Identity, Sexual Content, Two week fling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-08 15:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 57,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14697354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansaStarkSnow/pseuds/SansaStarkSnow
Summary: Sansa went to Athens under the cover of Alayne Stone to fulfill her mission - which is to steal the Diamond Star necklace that was taken from her family by the Targaryens. Along the way, she met a drop-dead gorgeous stranger. He was the embodiment of her fantasy, a man who would make her heart race at first sight and sweep her off her feet with just one look. Throwing caution to the wind, she embarked on a torrid two-week fling with him without realizing that she was in fact, sleeping with the enemy.SWEETAPRILBUTTERFLY'S BEAUTIFUL EDIT[COMPLETED]





	1. Chapter 1 - Preview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, you guys! Feels like it has been a long time. To be honest, I terribly miss writing "Divine Madness" and interacting with you all. Hope you are doing good :)  
> Cheers!

**[NOTE: This chapter is a PREVIEW for the fic. I posted this at one point to get the readers' opinion if I should continue. I would suggest you to SKIP IT IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS.]**

Sansa had been casing the Diamond Star Hotel in Athens for the past two weeks. Before her arrival, she already committed to memory every nook and cranny, every entrance and exit to and from the hotel from a blueprint she obtained from the internet.

 

She checked in under an assumed name, “Alayne Stone” and paid cash. No one questions someone who wore Prada and booked one of the most expensive suites in the hotel. The clerk probably thought she was just another celebrity who didn’t want to be recognized. She also befriended the manager, who looked like a throwback from the 1920s with his sleek, oily hair, olive complexion, beady eyes and moustache as well as a penchant for wearing plaid suites when he’s not working. The reason she knew this – he’d already asked her for a dinner date and was obviously smitten. He was the key to the success of her mission.

 

On the anniversary of each Diamond Star Hotel or Resort, the Diamond Star Necklace was displayed for four weeks inside a glass case at the hotel lobby. The name and logo of the hotel was derived from this necklace. The 110-carat diamond necklace includes square and pear-cut diamonds set in 18k noble gold. The clasp is an exquisite, 14-point diamond star. It was once owned by Mumtaz Mahal the favorite wife of Shah Jahan, the king who had the Taj Mahal built as her final resting place. Considering its history the necklace was currently valued at 100 million dollars.

 

Her heart was hammering inside her chest. There’s no turning back. Today’s the day she’ll take the Diamond Star Necklace. It was lunch time. Except for the manager and his assistant talking by the registration desk, the lobby was empty. She showed no signs of frayed nerves as she walked towards them, her footsteps muffled by plush, thick carpet.

 

“Theon,” she called out flashing a brilliant smile.

 

“Alayne,” he answered with a proprietorial gleam in his eyes. He dropped whatever he was discussing with his assistant and rushed to her side, took hold of her hands and planted a kiss on her cheek. His eyes raked over her from the brown hair, black figure-hugging Versace ruched mini dress with plunging neckline, the length of her legs, all the way down to her feet encased in a black Christian Louboutin cutout bootie. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips almost smacking with glee. He was flattered by the attention she was giving him.

 

“I’m leaving tomorrow and I have yet to touch the diamond necklace,” she said smiling at him seductively. Reaching for his necktie, she pretended to adjust it while giving him a flirtatious gaze. “I guess, I’ll be leaving disappointed.”

 

“Oh no my darling, I always keep my promise,” he preened lasciviously, acting like he just granted her an audience with the pope. Taking her elbow he said, “Come, let’s go and touch that necklace.”

 

As they crossed the lobby, she hardly noticed the soaring Roman columns, the plush sofas and chairs, priceless tapestry that covered a wall and gilded mirrors. They headed toward a roped area where she could see the gleam of the diamonds catching the light overhead. She was sure those were sensor lights and anyone who tries to touch the glass, an alarm will go off. For added precaution, she’s aware that there were motion sensors inside the roped area.

 

Theon pushed a fingerprint identification button that would disable the sensors. He unhooked one of the ropes and they walked close to the glass. He pushed another button hidden underneath the glass case and the glass lifted.

 

Sansa almost gasped at the beauty of the necklace. She wanted to cry knowing how much it meant to her family, not in terms of value because it’s priceless but the many memories that have faded through the years except for one special individual, her brother, Robb. Acting nonchalant she remarked, “Wow, so that’s what 100 million dollars look like.”

 

Theon picked the necklace from the purple velvet bust stand and handed it to her. “You’ll look absolutely ravishing wearing this necklace.”

 

Taking the necklace from him, she raised it up and gazed at the sparkling gems, then held it against her neck. “What do you think?” she asked him, posing provocatively, noting the way his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he stared at the diamonds resting on her cleavage.

 

“Beautiful, you and this necklace belong together,” he rasped.

 

“My thoughts exactly,” she silently replied.

 

“Oh Gods,” she exclaimed in a panic-stricken voice, her hand pressed against her right eye.

 

“What is it? What’s wrong,” Theon asked with a confused expression on his face.

 

“My contacts. I lost one of my contact lenses. Can you help me? I’m not going to move. Can you just maybe take a look around?” she requested excitedly.

 

Theon obediently fell on his knees and started skimming the floor with his hands. He was so absorbed with the task of looking for the contact lens, that by the time he raised his head, she was gone, along with the necklace.

 

Sansa immediately rushed towards the door leading to the stairs. Yanking it open, she barrelled up the stairs to the next floor and ran to the ladies room. She reached beneath the sink and pulled an oversized bag and entered one of the stalls. She has five minutes to get out of the hotel. Taking a red tent dress from the bag she put it on, over her black dress. Next she wrapped a thick black leather belt around her waist, and put on a blond chest level wig. She placed the necklace in a mailers box and stuffed it in the bag. Putting on dark sunglasses, she went out of the ladies room and took the elevator to the ground floor. By the time she reached the lobby, there was already a small commotion going on among the staff and security personnel. No one noticed a lady in red going out of the door, hailing a taxi and leaving the hotel.

 

On the way to the airport, Sansa dropped by the post office and couriered the necklace to a post office box number in London. Just as the sun was setting in Athens, she was on a plane bound for the UK.

 

“How could you be so stupid to let this happen?” Jon bellowed in between expletives at the quaking manager. “If it weren’t for the fact that I need you as a witness, I would have fired you already.”

 

Turning to the head of security he asked, “So what can you tell me?”

 

“Sir, we viewed the security tapes and I can tell you, she’s a professional,” he answered in a soft-spoken voice, a stark contrast to his immense size. Tall with broad shoulders and thick, muscled arms, he looked like a wrestler. “She’s probably aware of the hidden cameras so she always walked with her head bowed and sometimes she’d wear dark sunglasses. She also paid cash so it will be difficult to trace her.”

 

Jon was not concerned about losing a valuable piece of jewelry because the Diamond Star necklace was insured. However, the necklace had been valuable to his mother and the symbol of how his family rose from humble beginnings to become a force to be reckoned with in terms of wealth and influence. “Send me a copy and I’ll review it later,” he instructed.

 

“Theon, tell me more about this woman. Describe her to me.”

 

“Sir, she checked in two weeks ago. She about 22 or 23 years old with brown hair, very friendly and asked questions about the necklace. I also noticed her eyes.”

 

“What about her eyes?”

 

“She’s got beautiful blue eyes.”

 

Jon suddenly remembered a pair of blue eyes brimming with desire, sensual mouth swollen from his kisses, thick chestnut brown hair splayed on the pillow and a ravishing, naked body writhing and arching against him in the throes of passion.

 

“What’s her name?” he inquired, his eyes boring through the hapless Theon.

 

“Sir, I believe she gave a fictitious name,” he nervously answered.

 

“What’s her name?” Jon repeated his question, his voice low and lethal.

 

“Her name is Alayne Stone.”

 

Something exploded inside him. Could this be just a coincidence or did Alayne Stone just commit the biggest mistake of her entire life?

 

Glancing at Theon contemptuously he said, “I’ve heard enough.”

 

The moment Theon was out of the room, Jon turned his attention back to the head of security. With a smirk on his face, he said, “We’ll find her. No one challenges me and gets away with it.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is just a preview. I was trying to piece up the deleted fics when this idea came to my mind. I have written more to show the foundation and the development of this part. I'll work on it if you are interested to read more. :)  
> Thank you!  
> PS: The deleted fics are shaping up too!


	2. Chapter 2

 

Jon stood by the edge of the swimming pool. Adjusting his goggles, he paused and with perfect precision dived in and swam the length of the pool. Back and forth he glided the water in a series of strong butterfly strokes. Each powerful thrust propelled his body forward displaying wide muscular shoulders and arms.

 

The forceful splash of his feet against the water resonated in the opulent indoor pool area. A painted mural covered the dome ceiling and walls in rich, jeweled tones depicting Venus rising from the sea and the Greek god Poseidon. Tall curved windows surround the room. The cool water was his therapy to ease his tension from work so he swam lap after lap for the next thirty five minutes.

 

The sound of footsteps clicking on the grey and white travertine tiles was heard just as he was emerging from the pool. His father's butler walked over and handed him a fluffy, white towel. "Sir, your father would like you to join him for dinner."

 

Rubbing his hair with the towel, he gazed at his father's butler of twenty years. His short hair was sprinkled with grey. "Let me change and I'll join him shortly."

　

Rhaegar sat at the head table waiting for his son to appear. The elegant dining room had a vaulted ceiling of cobalt blue with gilded stars, a hand-carved table and twelve high-back gilt chairs. Arched windows were trimmed with crimson velvet and the walls were rubbed golden yellow.

 

"Ah, you're here," Rhaegar greeted his son when he emerged. He's changed into a dark suit over an open neck white shirt.

 

"Good evening, dad," he murmured. At fifty-five years of age, he's healthy, sprightly and looking ten years younger. His father single-handedly raised him when his mother died in a car crash, making him a motherless child at a young age. The death of his mother was a big blow to his father who found it hard to even function properly because of the extreme grief. As a result, Jon was forced to learn the business as a teen-ager. By the time he was twenty five, he took over the helm of Diamond Star Group of Companies.

 

Whenever time permits, Jon visited his father. He'd brief him about the business and still asked his opinion before every major decision he had to make. His father may be retired but he was brilliant and his wisdom borne out of experience was priceless.

 

But tonight, Rhaegar did not seem to be interested in talking business. Jon sensed a restlessness in his father. Normally, he would enthusiastically ask questions. Instead, he just listened politely. After a three-course dinner, Jon asked, "What's wrong? You don't seem to be yourself tonight."

 

Rhaegar flashed him an indulgent smile. Taking a sip of brandy he said, "It just occurred to me that all these years you never talked about your personal life. It had always been business between us. We're family but we discuss like we're always in the office. I'm not saying it's all bad because we're both business driven and love the excitement that go with the territory. If your mother were alive, she'd want to know everything."

 

Jon's face transformed. He peered at his father through hooded eyes, his face expressionless. "What do you want to know?" He prefers to keep his personal life private, even from the father.

 

"Well, for starters, are in a serious relationship with Ygritte?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and eyeing his son with a tired expression. He's now familiar with Jon's modus operandi when he's about to give his girlfriend the boot. "You conveniently visit me when you're about to break things off with her."

 

Jon chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Why dad, for someone who claimed to be clueless about my personal life, you're quick to jump to conclusions." Not that his father was wrong. He had met Ygritte at a charity ball. She was a former sports-wear model when she was introduced to him and also, an adrenaline junkie like him. But recently she has started to develop a possessive attitude and has been insisting on moving in together. Maybe it's time to break things off with her. That is what is good for her heart in the long run too; beause he can't give her what she wants. He's been showering her with gifts lately, jewelry, flowers, clothes, a sure sign he's winding things down. More gifts in exchange for his absence and sporadic phone calls.

 

Rhaegar sighed. "What's all the hard work for if there's no one to inherit and continue your legacy?"

 

"Dad, I don't do commitment," he drawled. "I enjoy the freedom and the last thing I'd want in my life is emotional baggage. Love is too much of a responsibility to bear. Maybe someday I'll find a suitable wife and mother to my children but not right now." He sounded clinical but, as far as he's concerned, it would be ideal. Someday he'll find a wife who's sophisticated, intelligent, a good hostess when he's entertaining and equipped with the social skills befitting a man of his stature.

 

His father's brow furrowed. "You may just be surprised to find a diamond in the rough lurking in the most unlikely spot."

 

* * *

 

　

Sansa stood at the balcony of her suite. It's been over a month since her brother's death and ironically, she decided to visit her most favorite spot in the world, Athens. While sipping red wine and listening to one of their favorite songs, she gazed at the majestic view of the Acropolis.

 

"Robb," she whispered as tears streamed down her face. She spent the happiest time of her life with him and his wife in Athens. They walked the ruins of the Acropolis. It's where Talisa told her the story of how the goddess Athena became the protectress of the city. Legend had it that there was a contest between the god Poseidon and the goddess Athena. They had to produce gifts. Poseidon struck the ground and water gushed out, offering the power of the sea while Athena presented an olive tree, the symbol of peace and eternity. The gods decided that it was the appropriate gift so Athena became the goddess protector of the City of Athens.

 

At the nearby ancient Theater of Dionysos, Sansa would sit on the steps enraptured, listening to Talisa read Aeschylus. She could almost hear her voice, vibrant and dramatic. Her thoughts drifted to an image of a dead Talisa surrounded by blood from losing her and her child's life.

 

"Who will be my protector now that you all are gone?" she whispered, "who will protect me from...." She brushed tears from her eyes. "Don't worry Robb, this will be the last time I'll cry over you. I've decided to celebrate your life instead of mourning it." She raised her glass towards Acropolis and murmured, "Here's looking at you, annoying brother."

 

Apokreas is Greece's Carnival season resembling places like Brazil and New Orleans. It's the time for partying, drinking, dancing, and eating. Thousands descend on Plaka and Psiri dressed in colorful costumes, parading down the streets, throwing confetti and hitting each other with squeaking clubs. Included among them were Sansa and her newfound friends, George and Ana whom she met while shopping at Hondos Center. They asked her where they could find sunscreen and she pointed to a little corner on the second floor. They dressed as clowns while she wore a black gown, black elbow-length gloves, strands of pearls with a diamond brooch on the front and held a long cigarette holder.

 

Sansa wandered down the square teeming with people listening to the live band. She welcomed the privacy and immersed herself with the sights and sounds of the city in the midst of a celebration.

 

　  
Jon scanned the crowd gyrating to the pounding music. He had a good view from the mezzanine where he occupied a private space. Except for the historical Victorian building housing the club, everything inside was modern, from lighting to the glass bar and the lighted dance floor. Almost everyone wore a costume and from where he was sitting the scene below was spectacular. The women were scantily clad in costumes guaranteed to raise the blood of every male in the club. A woman in a "Star Wars" Princess Leia costume danced seductively, her breasts heaving and almost popping out of her bra. Her companion was enjoying the sight, his hands on her hips while she swayed to the rhythm of the music. It was a gathering of the young, hip and sexy celebrating Apokreas.

 

"Le Club Distillery" was part of a series of buildings he bought in the oldest section of Athens, Plaka. Dating back to the 1800s, these used to be part of a distillery, producing whisky and exporting all over the world. After the business closed, the place was abandoned and fell into disrepair. He transformed the once derelict area into a chic place with live theatres, galleries, restaurants and residential lofts.

 

"Sir," the manager of the club came over and handed him a glass of Scotch on the rocks. "Would you like some company?" he asked pointing to a beautiful woman with almost white hair and purple eyes in a 60's inpired fringed gold mini dress and black knee high boots. "She likes you."

 

Jon smiled at him. "Not right now." This one seemed too interested and he's wary of her kind. Some women take the opportunity to be in his company to boost their image and popularity, especially ambitious ones. He wanted to enjoy a quiet evening without attracting the paparazzi. The manager bowed his head and left.

 

Turning back his attention to the scene below, his eye caught a vision in black. She was threading her way through the crowded dance floor towards the bar. What set her apart was her dress. Compared to the women in the room, she was overdressed in a black gown with strands of pearls around her neck, and elbow length gloves. She was holding a cigarette holder on one hand and a champagne flute on the other. Her brown hair was piled on top of her head in an updo style framing an oval face with milky white skin, blue eyes, soft, limpid and cupid's bow lips, a deadly combination of innocence and sensuality. As if sensing him, she looked up and their eyes locked. It seemed everything froze and receded around them and they're the only people in the room. She flushed and averted her gaze.

 

Sansa lost herself to the vibrating music, joining the throng of merrymakers on the dance floor. Exhilaration washed over her. She's dancing with strangers and for once, she'd like to be like them. Tonight, she's Alayne Stone, chic, sophisticated, a free spirit. She let loose on the dance floor, balancing a glass of champagne on one hand and waving her cigarette holder on the other. Surrounded by gyrating bodies, she smiled and acknowledged the welcoming "hi's" from the glitzy Greek crowd who recognized a foreigner in their midst. Noting her glass was empty, she weaved her way towards the bar.

 

It was then she felt a tingling sensation in her spine, a sort of warning that made her stop in her tracks and looked around, searching for the unseen cause. Nothing. Everyone's busy doing their own thing. Chiding herself for being jumpy she started walking again until she raised her head and met the burning eyes of a stranger who held her gaze with unapologetic intensity, searing through her defences, reaching right into her soul. Embarrassed, she lowered her head and proceeded to replenish her drink.

 

Thanking the man behind the bar, Sansa took the glass and as she turned to go back to the dance floor, she collided with a chest, spilling some of her drink on his shirt. "I'm sorry," she murmured her apologies. Looking up she gasped to see a pair of leery eyes that were lewdly peering at her. She recognized him as the man in the square who tried to strike a conversation but whom she politely ignored. He was medium height with huge shoulders and beefy arms. "Hello beautiful, I'm Harry," he whispered bringing his face so close to hers. She could smell his liquor-soaked breath. "I've been watching you, how about you dance with me?"

 

"No, thank you," she murmured and attempted to push past him but it was like running against a brick wall.

 

He did not budge. Instead, he clamped his huge hand around her wrist. "Not so fast, sweetheart. Where do you think you're going?"

 

"Let go," she hissed. Her puny attempt to pull her hand from his grasp was met with lecherous laughter.

 

"You heard her, let go," a low but authoritative voice spoke.

 

The man was temporarily distracted. Sansa took advantage of the opportunity. With lightning speed, she emptied her glass on the man's eyes and punched him where it hurt, his groin. Howling, he doubled over and let go of her wrist.

 

 _Atta girl,_ Jon thought. She was still trapped between the man and the bar and the jerk was blocking her way. The man turned around and growled. "Why don't you butt out and mind your own business?" He lunged. Jon ducked instinctively and received a glancing blow above his right eye.

 

Jon immediately jabbed and hit the man's jaw, followed by a solid punch to his stomach sending him crashing against the edge of the bar.

 

The manager and two bouncers appeared on the scene to apprehend the man. Held on both sides, he was hauled out of the club kicking and screaming obscenities.

 

Grabbing her hand, Jon rasped, "Let's get out of here." She was not safe. The man may be with friends who'd go after her. And, he did not relish the idea of the paparazzi picking up his trail and making them front page news in the tabloids.

 

They wound their way through the herd of dancing bodies and once outside, they ran until they were swallowed by the crowd of revelers on the street. Panting, they paused to gaze at each other.

 

Actually, she did not fit his type. He liked short and gorgeous redheads. This girl is what one would consider tall, lithe, with brown hair. Upclose, she's more beautiful than ever and her eyes, they were pools of blue and made him want to drown in their depths. He was itching to pull the pins from her hair and let it tumble down and bury his hand through the thick, silky mass. Her moist lips were made for sin and he imagined how it would feel and taste against his, how her eyes would blaze with desire as she writhes beneath him. He wanted her. From the moment he set eyes on her he wanted her more than any woman he's ever known.

 

For the second time, Sansa locked eyes with the stranger who was blatantly staring at her from the mezzanine of the club. His black, curly hair reached his shoulders and was pulled back in a manbun. His eyes were dark and seductive and he had the sexiest mouth she's ever seen. Dressed in black silk shirt open at the neck, he gave her a glimpse of taut, muscular chest. He was wearing a solid gold necklace with a dragon pendant. His dark grey pants emphasized muscular, powerful legs. The man was drop dead gorgeous and her body was responding like a cat in heat. She's never entertained lewd thoughts of men. Until now. Her hormones were jumping up and down, doing somersaults, lit up like fireworks on New Year's eve. She was aching with a need totally alien to her.

 

Her attention was drawn to a red spot on his right brow partially covered by his hair. Reaching up she brushed aside some of the strands of his hair to expose a small gash. "You're bleeding. I better tend to that before you lose all your blood." In reply, he smiled. She wanted to pull his hair out of the manbun and kiss him. What's wrong with her? She's acting like a lovesick teen-ager. "Is there a pharmacy around where we can get a first aid kit?"

 

"There's a loft nearby, why don't we go there?" he murmured, her scent and nearness was doing dangerous things to his body.

 

She's never gone alone with a stranger before, but somehow she wasn't afraid and her curiosity to learn more about him got the better of her. Besides, she's been in more dangerous situations than this. "Okay," she mumbled.

 

The loft looked like the inside of an old castle. They entered huge mahogany doors. There were massive columns supporting limestone lions, frescoed walls and ceiling and crystal chandeliers. "This is the grandest loft I've ever seen," Sansa remarked, admiring her surroundings. Everything inside spelled luxury, from the antique furniture to the soaring gilt mirror by the foyer. And yet, it gave out a homey feel. "Did you decorate this yourself?"

 

"Well, I did have a hand in it," he replied as he led her from the foyer to the living room with mismatch sofa and a pair of wing chairs, an ornate coffee table and a priceless persian area rug. "I've collected all these, piece by piece. I'm an avid collector of antiques." For Jon, this was his hideaway from the busy world he lived in, away from prying eyes. His neighbours did not have a clue who he was and he liked the anonymity. They thought he was the property manager.

 

"I'm impressed," she murmured, turning around to face him. Their eyes met and the air between them crackled with awareness. She forgot what she was about to say, her heart erratically beating against her chest. His intense appraisal, as his eyes drifted from her face to her feet, sent liquid heat through her veins.

 

"Can I get you something?" he asked, his eyes dropping to her mouth.

 

"No, thank you," she replied with a catch in her voice, her eyes held by his seductive gaze. "Where's the first aid kit so I can clean and cover your wound?" she murmured.

 

"Wait here," he said. He went up the stairs and came back with the first aid kit.

 

"Sit down," she motioned him to sit on the sofa while she took a seat on the coffee table facing him. She dug through the first aid kit and took out an alcohol swab. Reaching out, she applied it on his brow. "This is going to sting a bit." He winced as she dabbed at the gash to remove the blood. "The cut is just superficial," she assessed, applying antiseptic ointment. He was too close for comfort, she could feel his breath on her cheek.

 

He leaned forward so that his face was just a few inches from hers. "What's your name?" he whispered.

 

She's in a place with a man she hardly knew. "You can call me Alayne," she answered.

 

He smiled. "Alayne...Does Alayne have a last name?"

 

"Stone."

 

"Princess Of Stones?" he asked with a note of amusement.

 

"Sure. If you say so. What about you, what's your name?"

 

"You can call me Jack," he shot back.

 

"Jack. As in Jack the Ripper?" she countered.

 

He laughed softly, "No. Just Jack."

 

"Well Just Jack, you're good as new," she said softly, blowing on his wound and then covering it with a band aid. Okay she really needs to leave now.

 

That was Sansa's last coherent thought before she heard a sharp intake of breath and saw the glint in his eyes. He pulled her face with a hand on her jaw and covered her mouth with his own.

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa gasped. A spark ignited within her the moment his lips touched hers. He slid his tongue along the seam of her mouth and gently nipped her bottom lip. “Oh,” she moaned, parting her mouth. His tongue boldly seduced and encircled hers, erotically exploring, breaking down her will to fight. His kiss became more potent, demanding, and like a switch she responded, recklessly kissing him back. She craved him, wanted him to feed her yearning for fulfilment and fill the aching sensation in her pelvis. Now she understood what it felt like to want a man with every fibre of her being. It was like an unstoppable tidal wave crashing against her.

 

“Come here,” he whispered against her mouth, circling her waist with his arm and lifting her onto his lap like she weighed no more than a feather. “Remove the pins from your hair,” he urged in a deep, husky voice that made her shiver. Sansa was grateful that on some level he didn't tug on her hairclips impatiently and risk ripping her hair out. It would've definitely killed the mood. As she lifted her hands to pluck the pins from her hair, his eyes were like black onyx, lustily watching her movement. His other hand moved to cup her breast and she moaned while pressing against his invading hand. “You like this baby,” his voice hoarse with desire as he filled his hand with the tanstalizing mound and rubbed his thumb against the engorged bud.

 

“Yes,” she breathed, “yes…”

 

Her brown hair thumbled like spun silk. “You’re beautiful,” he groaned. Burying his hand in her lustrous hair, he dragged her face against his in an open mouth kiss. Her mouth was hot to the plunder of his tongue, and her breathing was as ragged as his. She circled her arms around his neck, pulled herself higher, and clamped her hands through his hair. It wasn’t enough. She wanted more to assuage the craving sensations in the lower part of her body.

 

She almost jumped at the touch of his fingers moving upward, making her whimper from the explosive pleasure that swept through her.

 

 Her bare thigh felt like silk to his touch. “Mmm, so soft,” he murmured. 

 

She slid her hands under his shirt, gliding along the broad expanse of his chest. Groaning with the scalding heat of her touch, he unzipped her gown and yanked it over her head with a quick tug. He lustfully raked his eyes over her body. She looked like a goddess sent to him from heaven.

 

Jon ran his fingers through her hair and pulled her head back, trailing sucking kisses down her throat making her tremble with excitement. He cradled her ass and stood up. She knew where he was taking her as he climbed the stairs to the second floor and soon she found herself in a dimly lit room. She had a brief impression of rich tapestry on the wall, a four-poster bed, the dark blue and gold bed cover until he yanked it back and tumbled her onto the mattress.

 

Their eyes held. Her heart was racing and a roaring buzz filled her ears as he undressed, ripping his shirt off without bothering with the buttons.

 

Seconds later, he stood before her, the warm glow of the light in the bedroom caressed his magnificent body, casting shadows on his muscles and sculpted torso. He’s the most beautiful man she had ever seen with taut muscled body, strong and virile like an athlete.

 

A dip on the bed and he was on top of her, his hand pinning her wrists above her head. His mouth swooped down, claiming her parted mouth in a slow, drugging kiss that left her a pliant slave to his full sexual onslaught. 

 

He started a sensual journey with his mouth and tongue moving to her jaw, nipping her earlobe down to the side of her neck. His hands slowly glided down. She was exquisite, wild and wanton. The most sexually responsive woman he had ever experienced with a sinfully delicious body to match. Did she have an expert lover who taught her to respond in a way that would drive any man crazy? The thought filled him with jealousy that he couldn’t understand. He glanced at her. Her eyes blazed with desire and her moist mouth was parted and swollen from his kisses, her luxurious hair splayed enticingly on the pillow. His hardened length was painfully begging for release but he was determined to erase any man from her mind by giving her the most unforgettable sexual encounter in her life.

 

With erotic slowness, he took his time caressing, memorizing her body, and arousing her. He hit the right places which made her scream and beg for release.  “Jack, please,” she mewed, gripping his shoulder. He covered her protest with his mouth in a deep kiss, and his tongue slid inside to meet hers. She tried to squirm from the fierce heat running through her body building up into an aching need but the length of him exerted control. “Trust me, sweetheart, it'll feel amazing.” She became mindless except for the moment and the man bringing her to oblivion as his mouth made a lazy descent down her body while his hands stroked her ass. His full lips caressed the satiny skin of her ribcage and the expanse of her stomach, pausing to suck her belly button before going lower.

 

The first touch of his tongue on her inner lips sent wildfire blazing through her. “Jack…it’s too much….please…please,” she begged. He chuckled against her hole and the vibrations caused a tremble to go down from her spine to the nail on her toe. He then gave her clit a slow feather light lick followed by a full-on suck. And just like that, her body spasmed, splintering her into a wild orgasm that continued like a widening ripple. She cried out from intense pleasure, hurtling her into a freefall. 

 

Jon watched mesmerized as she reached her peak while arching her back as her mouth formed a perfect O. She then came back down from her high still breathing raggedly and fell back on the bed before giving him a slow sexy smile. She looked so fucking beautiful.

 

“Are you---”

 

In barely a whisper, she interrupted him, “I want you.”

 

“Say that again,” he commanded.

 

“I want you…” she whimpered.

 

“I _need_ you,” he growled with his own need. Sensations hot and searing bombarded her senses, building up again into an unstoppable wave from his erotic assault. Her fingers dug through his hair. She pulled him on top of her, encouraging him, willing him to continue. She felt like she’ll die if he stopped.

 

When he lifted his head and moved to hover over her, she was more than ready for him.

 

“Take me,” she whispered. With a growl he claimed her mouth in a devouring kiss. He opened the drawer on the table next to the bed and grabbed a condom. He hastily tried to put it on while Sansa teased him by spreading her thighs wide. 

 

“Hurry,” she murmured and he groaned as his fingers seem to slip in impatience. Sansa slowly traced the hair leading to his erection from his stomach and placed her long legs on his shoulders, locking them at his nape.

 

Finally managing to sheath himself properly, Jon pounced on her while she let out a surprised squeal. “You'll be the death of me,” he murmured against her lips before sucking in her full bottom lip.

 

Holding one of her thighs, he positioned himself and thrust into her, muffling a long groan against her neck. Sansa threw her head back and clawed at his back, moving her hips against his with all the power she had.

 

She tugged on his head and kissed him hungrily, scratching her nails across his shoulders, her fingers digging his flesh as he moved deeper. The smell of sex permeated the room while his hips snapped with hers repeatedly. White-hot heat surrounded them, blotting out everything but the explosion of their mutual release. The splintering force of her orgasm lifted her body off the bed while he shuddered as she pulsed around him and brought him to an earth-shaking climax with the following aftershocks that went on and on.

 

* * *

 

 

Jon woke up with a soft body pressed to him like an extension of his own. Glancing down he saw Alayne fast asleep, curled in the crook of his arm with her breasts against his chest. One of her long legs were draped over his thigh and her arm rested on his stomach. She was achingly glorious and he had the impulse to run his hand all over her naked body. Only the knowledge that she needed some rest stopped him from waking her up to take her again and again. He was beseiged with a sexual hunger for her that he never felt before. Whenever he kissed her, it felt like it was his first and last kiss.

 

Slowly, he eased himself away from her and levered himself off the bed. He went to the adjoining master’s marble bathroom with antique fittings and went straight to the shower. Turning the temperature to cold, he let the pounding jets wash over him in an attempt to banish the aching hunger for her.

  
Sansa stirred and stretched contentedly. She had the most peaceful sleep that had evaded her since her brother and his family died. Opening her eyes, she was a little disoriented to find herself in a strange room until memories of the previous night came flooding back.

 

She had sizzling sex with a total stranger. And yet, it was the most glorious and wonderful sexual experience of her life. Jack was a passionate lover, sexy and hot. The thought of him, the feel of him inside her, his scent, the way he touched her and his mouth all over her made Sansa groan with desire.

 

Sansa rolled over to find herself in an empty bed. _Where could he be_ , she wondered. Slipping out of the covers, she walked to the bathroom and gasped. The opulence of the bathroom took her breath away. The walls were made of natural cream marble bricks; the floor was covered with tiles in hues of terracotta and grey; closets of rich chocolate soared to the ceiling. Behind the round marble jacuzzi bathtub was a stained glass that reached the ceiling, depicting the blue sky with cherubs and angels and flanked on both sides by brown velvet draperies. There was also a marble double sink with antique cabinetry and a separate shower.

 

She headed for the shower. The warm cascading water eased away the aches and pains from her body wrought about by their lustful tangle in bed. She washed her hair and lathered her body with a richly fragrant liquid soap until her skin tingled. Drying herself with a thick towel, she suddenly realized she had nothing to wear. She opened one of the closets lined with his clothes and picked a white long sleeve shirt, put it on and rolled the sleeves up to her elbow.

 

Standing on the balcony outside his bedroom, Sansa gazed at Athens blanketed by a thin layer of sand from the Sahara, carried over by the southern wind. She could barely see the Acropolis but the scenery took on a dreamy quality. Much like what was happening to her at the moment. It seemed as if she’s been walking in a dream the instant their eyes clashed across a crowded room, their escape from the man stalking her only to find herself in a stranger’s home sleeping with him.

 

Fate must be laughing at her. She, who swore off men and decided to stay single for the rest of her life, couldn’t take her hands off a stranger and give herself willingly to him. She could just imagine the expression on Jeyne’s face when she learns about her little sex adventure.

 

Sansa was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear him approach until she felt arms encircle her waist and his face nuzzling her neck. “Hmmmm...you smell so good,” he whispered.

 

Her pulse started racing and heat coursed through her body. “Jack, where have you been? I woke up and you were gone.”

 

“I went out to buy something for you to wear. That’s the least I can do after I tore your underwear last night. You brought out the beast in me,” he murmured jokingly, turning her around to face him and pulling her back in his arms. He was incredible to look at in faded jeans and white shirt that sculpted his body. Raising her chin, he gazed into her blue eyes. 

 

Something happened. An electric current seemed to pass through her body and Sansa quickly pulled away from him. “Jack...” she hesitated, suddenly self-conscious and aware she was naked underneath his white shirt as his eyes roved over her possessively.

 

“Jack what?” he prodded huskily, tracing his thumb along her lower lip.

 

“We were a little crazy allowing ourselves to get carried away like that. Last night shouldn’t have happened,” she spoke breathlessly.

 

“You drove me insane last night,” he murmured while his fingers started unbuttoning her shirt.

 

“No, we shouldn’t,” she managed to say but she was too weak to stop him. Her body was already responding by swaying towards him. The shirt was now gaping open exposing her nakedness to him. Lowering his head, he captured her nipple to silence her objection. Her hands found their way around his shoulders to caress his nape. His arm encircled her ass, lifting her off her feet and encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist.

 

He moved his mouth to glide along her slender neck, nipping her tender flesh. “I can _feel_ how wet you are against my hips. Do you know how crazy that drives me?” he whispered, his voice dripping with lust as he walked towards the bed.

 

He eased the shirt off her shoulder and laid her on the bed. Quickly, he undressed, slid in the bed and pulled her against him. “You’re not Alayne and I’m not Jack,” he spoke against her earlobe, his teeth grazing and nipping it. “Don’t you think it’s about time we get to know one another?” he mumbled huskily, letting his hand slide down her body.

 

“Let’s not break the magic,” she sighed, her breathing turning ragged as his fingers played with her heated core. “Let’s not also pretend that we’re serious about each other. What we’re enjoying is purely sex. I’m not looking for a permanent relationship and I’m sure, neither are you.”

 

She was right. It would be easier for them to let go in the end, never to see each other again. “Then stay with me. I’ll be here in Athens for the next two weeks,” he rasped.

 

Sansa had an important mission that brought her to Athens but what the heck? It wasn't due for another two weeks. For now, she wanted to be lost in a world where only Alayne and Jack existed. “Yes,” she acquiesced, her body hummed with scorching heat as his fingers picked up pace. “I’ll stay with you for two weeks and on the 15th day we'll say good-bye.” Just then Jon curled his fingers inside her and Sansa's muscles clenched in spasms of orgasm. “Jack,” she faintly cried out.

 

“Yes baby, I’m here,” he whispered and proceeded to show her just how much he worshipped her body. His lips, his tongue and his hands ravished her again, covering every tantalizing inch of her. By the time he claimed her, she had offered herself with wanton abandonment to him. He intently watched her rise towards another orgasm while she trembled and moaned his name over and over again. With the last vestiges of self-control in him, he surrendered and came hard inside the condom in a mind-numbing climax.

 

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Most of the people who come here are pilgrims,” Sansa recounted as they walked hand in hand along the Acropolis. The sun was setting and they could see its orange rays and bright yellow center peeking through one of the columns of the Parthenon. “But,” she faced him and raised her index finger like a teacher admonishing a student, “not everyone can get in. Murderers and other criminals are not allowed. And, you have to be pure so you can’t have sex the night before.”

 

Jon laughed softly. “Then we’re not supposed to be here.” She wrinkled her nose at him. She looked like a sunflower in her yellow sundress and ballet style black shoes. Even with minimal make-up and her hail pulled back in a ponytail, she looked stunningly sexy.

 

Jon raised his phone and took picture of her. Then he walked to her side and turned the screen towards them. She stopped him before he could click a photo. “I hate normal poses,” she shook her head, “I prefer candid shots or funny faces. C’mon, let’s have fun.” She pressed her cheek against his and directed him to pout his lips and she did the same. He couldn't quite pull it off and ended up making more of a smoldering look. He grinned when he viewed their picture. They really looked comical. This was a new experience for him and he was having a wonderful time.

 

She continued talking like a tourist guide as they strolled the ruins. Pointing to the columns she explained, “Two architectural styles were used. The ionic ending with two scrolls and the doric with just a flat slab on the column.”

 

Jon gazed at her, visibly impressed. “Wow, I couldn’t even remember all these when I was in school. I lived in Athens for a while and never paid attention to its history.”

 

For a second, her face clouded. “Everything I know about Greece, I learned from someone special.”

 

“Who?” he asked curiously.

 

“Let’s just say, someone who watched me grow up,” she replied.

 

They were seated at the steps of the Theater of Dionysus and she was reading a portion of Aeschylus but he was hardly listening. His eyes were focused on her lips as if beckoning him to kiss her senseless. All he had to do was look at her and his body tightens with desire.

 

* * *

 

Sunlight was pouring through the window when Jon woke up and the first thought that came to mind was Alayne. Despite the intensity of their lovemaking, he’s left wanting for more. Just the memory was making him horny as hell. He’d sought pleasure from experienced and worldly women but he never felt the rampant, sexual hunger he’d always had for Alayne. She was like a drug...after the feeling of satiation wears off, he’s again looking forward to the next fix.

 

Maybe he ought to ask her to be his girlfriend. She can have everything her little heart desires--clothes, trips, jewelries, shoes, credit cards, the latest car and a hell lot of orgasms.

 

He rolled over to reach for her but the bed was empty. Frowning, he propelled himself out of bed, striding across the room to the bathroom. She wasn’t there. Next he went to the balcony. She wasn’t there either. He roamed the loft hoping to find her. Nothing. She disappeared on him. His frown turned to a scowl and morphed into blinding hopelessness. He sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm himself.

 

He retraced his steps looking for evidence of a note, a message with an explanation but there was none to be found. He raked his hair with exasperation.

 

Just as Jon was about to saunter back to his room, the door opened and Alayne came in dragging a suitcase. “Where have you been?” he yelled in a panic with a voice that chilled her bones.

 

Sansa was taken aback by the roughness of his voice and the fact that he was unashamedly standing in the middle of the living room naked. His manhood was hanging smugly in between his legs with the proof of his morning hardness. Even in anger he was magnificent, powerfully built with solid and well-packed muscles, blatantly masculine from his burgeoning pectorals to the thick cluster of dark curls around the potent strength of his sex. She blushed at the memory of him straddling and thrusting inside her.

 

“Well, I decided to pick up my things from the hotel where I was staying,” she explained ignoring his bad mood.

 

“Alayne, I was looking all over the place for you, wondering why you just disappeared without any word. You should have told me.” He was so relieved to see her and yet unable to control himself from chastising her because of the panic.

 

Her eyes flashed with indignation. “Wait a minute. I SHOULD have done that? May I remind you that I am not answerable to you? Maybe I should just leave. I’ll take the remainder of my stuff and go.” She marched past him to go his bedroom.

 

He found her taking her clothes from the closet. With quick strides, he reached for her and wrapped his arms around her.

“Alayne, listen--”

 

“Don't overestimate your hold on me,” she snapped while trying to wriggle away from him. But the more she tried to extricate herself, the harder he crushed her against him with her feet was dangling on the floor and her breasts were pressed sensuously against his lips. The friction it created produced a sharp stab of desire between her legs that had Sansa gasping and breathing hard. “You are just a guy I fuck.”

 

With a growl, he backed her against the closet. He pinned her with his lower body, anchoring himself. She stopped struggling when she felt the fire burning low in her belly. She mentally said 'fuck it' and plunged her mouth onto his. Her tongue enticed him to respond to her bold invitation and he kissed her back just as ferociously after the initial shock wore off.

 

Jon lost all inhibitions as swirling heat coursed through his body. He flattened his mouth into her kiss, his tongue darting to taste her and their kiss deepened into an erotic dance, slanting back and forth. She let her hands glide up the expanse of his solid chest to his neck and his dark and curly hair, pulling it out of the manbun.

 

His mouth trailed down her slender neck and his hand palmed her core, massaging its way to the curve of her waist and the swell of her breast. She was wearing an aquamarine blouson tube top dress that he easily pushed down with his fingers. She moaned with pleasure, sending tremors coursing through her veins. “Please Jack….,” she whimpered.

 

Sansa arched her back as she hooked one leg around his waist, pressing her wet folds against his aching cock and burrowing her face in the warmth of the curve of his neck. Her fingers twined around his hair and cradled the back of his head. He grunted, lifting her other leg and supporting her weight easily. He slammed her against the closet and pulled out a condom from a fresh new box. Quickly sheathing himself, he entered her while nipping on her neck and moved with rhythmic precision. He suddenly turned his back to the closet door and holding the back of her thighs firmly, he bounced her on his cock, up and down, up and down, intently watching those glorious breasts jiggle. His cock brushed against her clit everytime she came down to meet his shaft, making Sansa gasp and hold onto his shoulders for dear life.

 

They were floating in a sea of passion and their breathing turned shallow, increasing their yearning for physical fulfilment. Sansa squeezed her muscles around him and he groaned, looking up at the ceiling trying to postpone his impeding orgasm. His movements became more rough and potent after that, pushing them over the edge. She whimpered and shuddered convulsively overcome by the strength of her orgasm and its rippling effect brought tears of ecstasy to her eyes.

 

“Gods, Alayne!” He basically growled and hit the back of his head against the closet door as he followed her a few seconds later, his slick body shaking with the force of his completion.

 

Jon gently lowered Sansa to her feet but before she could take a step, she was in his arms again. He carried her to the bed and laid her on it before covering her tempting body with the soft Egyptian cotton comforter. He got rid of the used condom and then jumped on the other side of the bed, before pulling her close and raining kisses on her face. “I’m sorry. We both agreed to have no strings attached and I was out of line. Will you forgive me?” he whispered against her ear.

 

Sansa lifted her head to look him in the eye. “Yes,” she smiled.“And I'm sorry too...for what I said earlier,” she said in a throaty voice, struggling to complete her sentence as she had thoroughly exhausted herself from screaming and moaning. He nodded and hugged her tight to his chest before kissing the top of her head. They stayed like that for a long moment...in a cozy room...surrounded by the smell of sex. They revelled being in each other’s arms as he rocked and cradled her against him.

 

* * *

 

  
With a little cajoling on her part, Sansa was able to persuade Jon to spend the day at the Monastiraki Flea Market. He’s never been to a flea market and thought it’s just a place selling a lot of junk. “Treasures can be discovered in the flea market, you know,” she said encouragingly.

 

Comfortably wearing sneakers, baseball hats and identical white t-shirts with a pair of jeans for Jon and cut-off shorts for Sansa, they started their day at the archaeological ruins, including the Eridanos river used as sewage during to the time of Emperor Hadrian. They also visited the mosque that stood in one corner of the square and next to it, Hadrian’s library.

 

At Avisynia square they browsed the heart of the antique market, a fascinating mix of junk and real antiques. Surprisingly, Jon purchased a silver icon of St. George killing the dragon which captured Sansa’s fancy. Being an expert she knew that the icon was valuable and he bought it for a fraction of its worth. He smiled at how the little things in life made her happy.

 

They lingered for coffee and snacks at popular Adrianou St. and it was where Sansa saw the stray puppy weaving among the throng of people. It looked lost and frightened. Worried that it might be trampled on, she hurriedly went over to pick it up. The poor puppy was trembling and she could feel its tiny heart beating fast. “Don’t be scared, you’re safe now,” she whispered at the little creature resembling a furry ball.

 

She gave Jon a pleading gaze. “Oh no, you don’t,” he protested. “You’re not bringing THAT to my house.”

 

“Please Jack, let her stay until we find her owner. I promise I’ll take good care of her. You’ll never know she’s there.” She placed the puppy’s face against her cheek and made pleading faces at him. “Please, pretty please.”

 

He couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. “How the fuck can I say no to that face?” he sighed exaggeratedly, putting up a show of being disappointed.

 

She squealed with delight and rewarded him with a kiss on his lips. Before Jon could chase her lips when she pulled away, she pressed the puppy’s face against his face. “Thank you. Lady also thanks you.”

 

“Who’s Lady?”

 

Raising the little puppy close to his face she murmured. “Her.”

 

Jon was amused. Nothing would make his ex-girlfriends happier than gifts or orgasms and yet, Alayne was delighted with the little stray puppy as if he had just given her an expensive piece of jewelry.

 

 _“You may just be surprised to find a diamond in the rough lurking in the most unlikely spot,”_ his father’s words echoed in his head.

 

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

On the way back to the loft, Jon and Sansa spoke to the restaurant owner and requested him to ask around if someone lost a puppy. Jon left his address and phone number. Then, they dropped by a pet store to buy dog food, a little round bed, a puppy litter and toys. "You’re treating that thing like a baby the way you’re shopping for it," he said jokingly. 

 

"It is a baby, what do you expect?" she said, rubbing the furry ball that seemed to have developed an instant liking to her, barking softly from her touch.

 

THAT baby took over his den in a little corner between the couch and the armchair. But it could have been worse. She could’ve let it with them in the master’s bedroom. He smirked as he wondered about the reward that Alayne promised for his generosity.

 

After he left the loft for a while, Sansa stood by the open closet. "So, what do you think Lady?" she asked, looking down at her new pet gazing up at her with its little head cocked to one side in rapt attention. "Do you think I should greet him with a sexy dress or should I do Julia Roberts in 'Pretty Woman,' no clothes and wearing only a necktie and stilettos. Lady barked. "I’ll bet he’d like that huh?" she grinned, imagining Jack with his jaw hanging when he walks in and finds her naked in the living room. He’s a highly sexual man and if he could have his way, he’d probably have her on her back 24/7. She felt instant heat course through her body just thinking about him.

 

Being with Jack was bliss. He awakened her own sexuality, the passionate and sensual side of her she thought she never had. If she could have her wish, she’d like their two-week affair to last forever. But, she’s a realist now. Not the naive little Sansa Stark anymore. What they have is a fantasy where everything’s perfect. Why, even their names were fictitious and she’s barely scratching the surface when it came to knowing the real man. Nope, whatever her feelings for him, she’ll let go when it’s time to part. If there’s one thing they have in common, it’s the fact that they’re not into any permanent relationships. He’ll just be a sweet and distant memory because…she could never trust any man.

 

The doorbell rang. Frowning she picked up Lady and headed for the door. It was too early for Jack to come back. He said he had an important meeting to attend and won’t be home till late in the afternoon.

 

When she opened the door, she was surprised to see the manager of the restaurant with a chubby boy, about twelve year’s old, and a woman. Upon seeing the puppy, the boy smiled. He tried to reach for her but was prevented by the woman. The manager, a middle age man with a moustache and graying hair said, "I’m sorry for the short notice but your husband told my boss that if the owner came looking for the puppy, my boss should call him. He sent me to inform you that we found the owner." Grinning he introduced the boy and his mother. "The boy owns the puppy. He was distracted that day and failed to notice that it got lost in the crowd. Apparently, the puppy was given to the boy by his aunt."

 

Sansa did not bother to correct the manager’s assumption that she was Jack’s wife. "Oh, I see," were the first words she could utter. She was hoping there’d be no one to claim Lady. With a heavy heart, she handed Lady to the little boy advising him to be careful next time. For a minute she was wary about the boy since Lady fought to stay in her arms. But well he seemed to be harmless enough and she quickly closed the door before anyone could see tears glistening her eyes. She couldn't help it. She could swear Lady almost looked longingly towards her.

 

So, of course, she was not a happy camper when Jack called to ask if she’d like to go clubbing that evening. "Okay," she answered sadly.

 

Surprisingly he noticed. "What’s wrong? You don’t sound excited."

 

With trembling voice, she confessed, "Lady’s gone. The manager of the restaurant came over with the owners and they took Lady away."

 

There was a pause on the other line. "I see," he said softly. "I’m sorry, baby, I’m sure you didn’t want to let go of Lady but it wouldn’t be fair to the boy either."

 

"I know," she acknowledged. "It’s just that I’ll miss Lady. But, on the other hand, maybe it was for the best because I can’t bring her with me when my vacation is over."

 

The doorbell rang incessantly. "Just a minute," she called out in annoyance. "Geez, whoever you are, why don’t you just break the door while you’re at it."

 

Jack stood outside, grinning from ear to ear, holding......."Lady," she squealed. He stood back, watching her reunion with the puppy that seemed to be delighted to see her from the way she barked and rubbed her head against Alayne’s neck. Then she turned to face him with a smile that could light up a Christmas tree. "What are you doing with Lady?"

 

"The manager called me. He said the boy changed his mind and decided to give Lady back to you as a gift. He said you looked very sad when they left," he lied. He called the owner of the restaurant and asked for the address of the boy. The brat charged him an arm and a leg when he offered money in exchange for the puppy.

 

She jumped in his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and hugged him tight. "I don’t know how you did it, but thank you."

 

"You’re not dressed," he murmured huskily. She was wearing a pair of skimpy white shorts and a scarf print halter midriff top. He was suddenly gripped with an overwhelming desire to throw her on the carpet and make passionate love to her.

 

"Can we just stay here with Lady? We can eat popcorn and watch a movie," When she looked at him the way she’s doing now, with her eyes pleading and her lush mouth just inches from his, how could he resist?

 

"Yes," he whispered, "if you kiss me."

 

He felt the hot slide of her tongue and his body ignited like a forest fire in the heat of summer. If it wasn’t for Lady being squeezed between them barking her protest, they would surely have ended in a tangle of limbs and legs on the floor.

 

"Tonight, I'll do much better than that," she whispered huskily.

 

* * *

 

 

  
Jon adjusted the faceguard on his face. He’s been fencing since he took the sport in university and he’d sometimes participate in a fencing bout. He invited Alayne to watch him but she excused herself. She wanted to bring Lady to the vet for check-up and grooming. He felt a surge of annoyance when she gave priority to Lady instead of going with him. This was his chance to impress her and she wasn’t interested. And you’re trying to impress her because...he banished the niggling thought from his mind. He couldn't believe he was jealous of a puppy. Alayne must have really screwed him up.

 

This was not the usual place he goes to. This was smaller and cheap compared to the luxurious fencing club he’s affiliated with where all the members belong to the elite. The reason he chose this was to hide his real identity. He didn’t want Alayne’s attitude to change. She accepted him for who he was, not what he represented. To most of his ex-girlfriends he was a rich boyfriend with unlimited cash who could provide them with fame and fortune. To Alayne, he’s Jack, an ordinary property manager.

 

He entered the room fully prepared and after the requisite protocol of saluting before the bout, he faced his opponent, half-crouching, legs cocked, right arm hanging loose behind the back. The referee grunted and the fight began, the blades flashing as they flit in and out of the light.

 

They dueled back and forth trying to outmanoeuvre each other with relentless aggression. Gripping the hilt of the sabre, he lunged hitting his opponent’s torso earning approval from those gathered in the room. Then his opponent did a feint, he parried, and the opponent disengaged and made a counterattack. Jon’s attention now focused on his rival, anticipating his movement but was unsuccessful. His faceless opponent was quick and moved swiftly, changing strategy with agility and lightning footwork. This person was not his fencing buddy.

 

It’s been a while since he faced a worthy opponent and with adrenaline pumping through him, he attacked, parried, lunged, counter-attacked, only to be challenged by his adversary. Then, with excellent skill, he executed a perfect lunge that won him the bout.

 

Removing his mask, he held out his hand. "That was great. I’m pleased to meet a worthy adversary."

 

His rival took his hand then pulled off the mask. Brown hair spilled over and he came face to face with...Alayne. "You," he spoke with incredulity.

 

"Hi Jack," she smiled, removing her fencing glove. "Yes, it’s me. When you told me you fence, I got excited. I wanted to fence too but I’m sure that if I told you, you would probably refuse or let me win. But I'm impressed. You won fair and square."

 

He waved to his fencing buddy who smiled and gave him the thumbs up. Taking her hand, he led her through the corridor and into the change room. "You are terrible!'' he joked. "How did you get in?" he asked, admiring her audacity. The more he learned about Alayne, the more she became a mystery and that intrigued him. He’s been fencing for many years and he could tell she was no amateur.

 

She removed the padding of the fencing jacket. "I followed, changed and approached your fencing buddy. Told him I was your sister and that you’ve been teasing me that I can’t take you on. He bought my story and was kind of amused that I would dare to challenge you. He told me you’re the best he’s ever had a chance to fence with."

 

"So going to the vet with Lady was just an excuse?"

 

"Not really. I dropped Lady at the vet and went to purchase this fencing outfit. Had I known I’ll be fencing in Athens, I would have brought my own from home."

 

She fascinated him. On one hand, she was feminine, fragile, sweet and the next, she’s this hard as nails woman capable of challenging him to a fencing match. "What made you take up fencing?"

 

Suddenly her smile faded and she put on a blank face. "Well, let’s just say that a woman needs to be alert all the time. One can never be too careful," she shrugged her shoulders and then grinned. "Enough with this talk. C'mon let's go." She kissed him passionately and he pulled her closer, momemtarily forgetting about the doubts he had.

 

* * *

 

 

They took the thirty-minute plane ride from Athens to Milos and tranferred to a yacht that brought them to this romantic cove where they’ll camp for the weekend.

  
It was perfect. His security people outdid themselves. As per his instructions, they set up the tent in the private cove. A huge white canvas situated in a raised wooden platform. The inside accomodation was like the set of Arabian nights that include a king size bed with lush bed cover and pillows of the finest Egyptian cotton, white gossamer canopy, an antique dresser, a tea table, persian rugs, oil lamps, heirloom china and silver. An off-site generator provided electricity and sent hot water to the showers and sinks as well as wireless internet. There’s also a thermostat controlled wood stove that created a romantic ambiance together with the lighted oil lamps. One of the perks of being a property manager was his excuse to Alayne to explain the luxurious accomodation including the yacht that brought them to the island.

 

They were cocooned and protected from the sun by spectacular rock formations in amazing swirls of red in white rocks, white in red rocks, green rocks, rocks with crystal interiors. Before them lay the gleaming turquoise water of the ocean.

 

Jon’s mouth curved into smile as he gazed at her. She’s been a delight, a beautiful diversion these past few days. The sight of her wearing almost nothing in a yellow string bikini, showing off her delicious curves, sent a rush of heat roaring through his lower body. His eyes roamed those long shapely legs, flat stomach and ample breasts that had been a delectable handful.

 

Abruptly, she raised her head and stared right at him. He walked over, lowered himself and covered her with his body, pressing her against the chaise. "Hey," he whispered, taking off her sunglasses and the book she was reading. "We are in one of the most beautiful places in the world, the island of lovers, and you’re reading a book. Do you know that this was the place where the statue of Venus the Milo, the goddess of love was discovered?" He could shamelessly admit he had googled that to impress her since she seemed to be so taken by history.

 

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I know. Unfortunately, it now occupies a place in the Louvre museum instead of the local museum of Milos. Thank you for bringing me here. I don’t know what you did for your employer for them to be so generous, but this is one grand vacation for me and I’m having a ball."

 

"So what are you reading?" he asked, his voice a low, sexy murmur that made her heart thud erratically. Her eyes raked over his taut, muscular body in dark blue swimming shorts. He was like a Greek god.

 

"I’m still in the first paragraph," she said, flashing him a tremulous smile. "The beauty of this place is so mesmerizing that I feel like we’re in another planet, like we can conquer the world. You and me....against the world."

 

It was on the tip of his tongue that she could see beauty like this everyday if she was his girlfriend. But no, he didn't say it. He didn't want to give her false hopes. His world is ruthless and different from Alayne's carefree life. That's just the way things are. They would never work out.

 

But now, as he saw her faraway gaze, his smile faded. "What are you afraid of Alayne?"

 

Her lashes fluttered from his unwavering gaze almost as if he could read her mind, delve into her soul. "What a silly question. There’s no reason for me to be afraid of anything."

 

He held her face so he could look straight into her eyes. "Is it? Is it a silly question? You may not be aware, but sometimes, you have this haunted expression."

 

Alayne chuckled awkwardly. "C’mon now, you have an over-active imagination. Soon you’ll try to play psychologist and start psychoanalyzing me," she said, taking his hand off her face. "Let’s just enjoy each other’s company. Make every minute last. That’s what this two-week fling is all about."

 

She’s right. Her life was none of his business. He’s never involved himself with the personal life of his girlfriends and he’s not about to set a precedent with Alayne. And yet...something about her left him with a gnawing desire and hunger he can’t spell out. The thought of their short relationship ending unsettled him. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry," he whispered, stroking her soft, silky hair.

 

Her eyes softened, blue eyes that drew him in with such potent force. If she only knew the power she had on him. "Hold me," she whispered. He rolled over the chaise taking her with him, embracing her against him. With a sigh she snuggled closer as he buried his face in her hair, breathing in her fragrance.

 

Sansa closed her eyes. With his arms holding her, she felt safe. Never in her wildest dreams did she entertain thoughts of a having a fling with any man, especially a stranger. An all consuming affair that left her wanting for...Wanting for what? Indulge in a fantasy now brewing in her head? No way. She’s never experienced this longing and surge of emotion that had somehow bonded them together. And this was not just on the physical level.

 

"Penny for your thoughts," he whispered pulling her out of her musings. "You’re so quiet."

 

"Hmmm," she murmured. "This is heaven. I’m just enjoying the tranquility and peace of this place."

 

"Only this place?" he teased. "What about the company?"

 

She laughed softly. "That too." His thumb and finger tilted her chin and her eyes came into contact with his dark, unwavering gaze, making her acutely aware of his desire glittering beneath thick lashes. Everything that’s happened between them was surreal. Jack had to only to look at her and her body pulsed with heat and tingled all over with longing. His thumb moved to graze her lower lip. The brushing touch was so sensual, her mouth parted to let her tongue lick his thumb and take it in her mouth and gently suck it.

 

"Alayne," he groaned his need. His mouth slowly descended on hers in a soft caressing kiss, his hand sliding behind her neck while his fingers buried itself in the in the silky strands of her hair drawing her closer for a deeper kiss.

 

She strained against him, lacing her arms around his neck, her fingers digging through his hair as she opened her mouth in response. Everything about him screamed of his sexual power and the burning heat caused by his nearness scorched her, reducing her to putty in his hands. His tongue plunged inside her mouth in hot exploration, teasing and stroking, his teeth nipping her lower lip sending bolts of lightning down her spine.

 

His hands moved over her back in an erotic dance, every touch making her body melt like a lighted candle. The delicious friction of his muscular thigh intimately touching filled her with uncontrollable desire.

 

"You have bewitched me, you sexy witch," he growled. His fingers untied the strings of her top and quickly tugged it out of the way.

 

She protested weakly. "Stop it," she moaned, her breasts already aching and swollen, her nipples hardened when it scraped against the solid wall of his chest. "We’re out in the open and people might see us."

 

"We’re in a private cove and we can do as we please," he murmured, shifting their position so that he was now on top of her. "I want to fuck you here in the open. I want to see your eyes drenched with passion when I take you, and I want to look at your beautiful naked body shimmer in the light of day." His mouth came down on hers once more, obliterating any rational thought except the heat of desire welling up inside and pooling down low to her pelvis.

His mouth started a fiery trail down her neck, nibbling and licking his way down to the valley between her breasts. One hand travelled to skim her slender neck, smooth over her shoulder to slide unerringly to palm her other breast, sending darts of electricity shooting throughout every cell of her body.

 

She pushed against him, her fingers knotting around the thickness of his hair. "Now, Jack," she whispered.

 

That seemed to spur him into action. He quickly discarded his swimming shorts. That fucker was already wearing a condom. He'd planned it. When she lifted her eyes to his, he shrugged and smiled innocently. Parting her thighs, he straddled her. "Look at me," he rasped, his voice vibrating with lust. "I want to see your face when I claim you."

 

Shyly, she opened her eyes to gaze at his face filled with passion. She felt a surge of elation and wonder.

 

The scent of her skin surrounded him like an intoxicating aphrodisiac increasing his excruciating desire for her. Her sexy, hot and tight body was like an erotic drug sending a myriad of sensations from his groin and spreading through every nerve endings of his body.

 

She gazed at his broad and powerful chest, marvelling at the satin feel of his skin beneath the palm of her hands. He kissed her hard and holding her jaw, he directed her to look down and murmured, "Watch, Alayne. Watch how you take me in. Can you feel my cock throb inside? Can you see a layer of your wetness coat my cock with every thrust? It drives me insane, sweetheat," She groaned, feeling like she could cum from hearing his words alone. His filthy words and sweet endearments were a deadful combination.

 

Her breathing became choppy and shallow with the scorching fire of pleasure ravaging her body. Wrapping his arm beneath her waist, he rolled on his back. Her limped eyes were glazed over with desire, and her lips parted temptingly. She grinded her hips and bounced, still having her head lowered and watching his cock disappear inside her.

 

Her body floated to the edge of the world. She was weightless in the clouds after an explosive climax. Within seconds he stiffened and with one strong lunged, he pulsed and came hard.

 

His arms wrapped around her as she collapsed on top of him. He cradled her against his chest. After a few minutes, their breathing turned to normal and the shuddering stopped. It was an incredible, magical moment for them as they lay blissfully in each other’s arms. He lifted her limp body and brought her inside the tent. Covering their nakedness with a blanket, they fell into a sated, contented sleep and woke up to a magnificent sunset.

 

They changed for dinner. She wore a white lace, off-the-shoulder sundress and he dressed in an open neck white linen shirt over a pair of tan linen pants.

 

A table for two was set outside the tent, beneath a white canvas canopy. A bottle of champagne cooled in a silver bucket. Antique china and silver cutlery were placed over crisp white linen. Jon instructed the hotel chef to pack special meals for them. Tonight they were having stuffed Florina peppers, Greek horiatiki salad and roasted chicken fillet mixed with sundried tomatoes, including watermelon pie for dessert.

 

"It’s like we’ve reached the ends of the earth," Sansa whispered in awe as they gazed at the setting sun. The sea appeared to be on fire as it reflected the sun dipping below the horizon, the crimson rays shimmering on the water. The sky was painted deep orange with a smattering of blue-grey not covered by the light yellow colored clouds. The surrounding islands seemed to be surrounded by a hazy mist giving them an air of mystery.

 

Jon was hardly paying attention to the view as his eyes were focused on her. She’s exquisite, looking like an angel with an expression of rapture on a face devoid of make-up. The light from the sun turned her lustrous hair to dark copper and her silken skin had a golden glow. Her dress enhanced her bare shoulder, low enough to show a hint of cleavage. He was mesmerized by her beauty. "I wish you’d look at me, the way you’re looking at the view," he spoke softly.

 

She lifted her lids to focus on his male beauty, his sculpted muscles showing through the open shirt. His penetrating gaze brought heat that shimmered between them. She could feel the hammering beat of her heart against her chest. "I believe I found my bliss in this place and I have you to thank," she murmured, smiling adoringly at him. She stood up and sat on his lap, draping her arms around his neck. "Would you like me to feed you?"

 

"Yes please," he said huskily. "But before that, kiss me." She obliged by giving him a soft, lingering kiss.

 

They spent the remainder of their stay touring, swimming, snorkelling and windsurfing the spectacular beaches of Milos. Lava flow created multi-faceted shoreline with dramatic rock formations like the enchanting white rocks of Sarakiniko that gave the impression of walking on the moon. They anchored in Kleftiko where the sea was so blue Sansa spent more time taking pictures rather than swimming.

 

Jon brought her to a seaside taverna where the terrace was so close to the sea and the waves breaking at their feet. Considered one of the places for authentic island food, they feasted on yellow split pea call fava, fresh fish, deep-fried balls made with small island tomatoes called keftedes, little cheese pies and drank wine made the owners.

 

Before returning to Athens, they visited the ancient theatre where the statue of Venus the Milo was found. When they reached the spot, they sat down to watch the incredible hilltop view of the sea. She was so engrossed with the view that she didn't notice when he took her hand and placed a velvet covered box.

 

She glanced at with a surprised expression on her face. "What’s this?"

 

"Open it," he said softly.

 

Lifting the lid, she found a solid gold necklace similar to what he’s wearing except the pendant was a wolf instead of a dragon. She looked at him with a questioning look in her eyes. "Why? You hardly know me."

 

"Well," he answered, picking up the necklace. "Let’s just say, your personality reminded me of a wolf, calm but knowing when to strike. Turn around."

 

She shook her head. "No. I can’t accept that. It’s too expensive and must have cost you a fortune," she objected.

 

"I’m not going to take no for an answer. This was specially ordered for you. Please don’t disappoint me. It’ll hurt my feelings if you refuse. And don’t worry, I can afford it. I'm known to invest my money wisely," he smiled.

 

She eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure about that?"

 

"Yes, I’m positive. Now turn around."

 

Slowly, she turned and lifted her hair so he could place the necklace around her neck. "I suppose you’re expecting something in return," she teased. "What do I have to do to repay you. Strip? Lap Dance?"

 

"Now, that is not such a bad idea," he murmured, planting a kiss on her nape. "I’d be very happy if you’d do a strip show and a lap dance for me."

 

She turned her head and smiled flirtatiously. "Don’t hold your breath mister."

 

* * *

 

 

When they reached Athens, Sansa rushed to the puppy.

 

"Lady," she gushed. The staff of the pet hotel where Lady stayed while they were in Milos handed her to Sansa. Lifting her up she said, "Did you miss us, did you?" Lady barked in greeting brushing her tiny head against Sansa’s thumb.

 

Jon watched with detached amusement as the two bonded. "If you’re finished declaring your love for each other, can we go home?"

 

She turned and smiled at him. "She missed you too," she blurted, passing Lady to him.

 

He placed the puppy in front of him at eye level. "You know how to charm your way don’t you?" Lady barked her answer. Inspite of Alayne’s intelligence, sophistication and in-your-face toughness, Lady brought out her childlike quality every time he saw them together.

 

They spent their last day in his home with Lady. After bidding Lady a teary good-bye, he drove her to the airport.

 

"Promise me you’ll find a loving home for Lady," she said in a low voice.

 

"I promise." Framing her face he whispered, "Stay for a while."

 

"I can’t," she spoke in a barely audible voice. "We both had a great time and the memories we created will be remembered till we’re both old and grey."

 

He kissed her lips in a feather-light touch and lingered for a few more seconds. "Good-bye, Alayne. I'll miss you," he whispered.

 

"Good-bye, Jack." She turned and hastily walked away, her vision blurred by tears.

 

Sansa waited for two hours to make sure he’s gone and then took a taxi back to her hotel in Athens. It was now time for her to fulfil her mission.

 

* * *

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Sansa gazed at the early morning view of Lycabettus Hill silhouetted against the golden glow of the dawn sun through the open wall to wall French doors of her suite. She was the picture of calmness in her white tank top with light grey neckband and leggings.

 

As the music floated in the room, she closed her eyes, obliterating the breathtaking view to start her one-hour yoga.

 

_I’ve grown accustomed to his face…….he almost makes the day begin….I’ve grown accustomed to the tune he whistles night and noon…_

 

She began her routine with sun salutation. From a prayer position, she inhaled and lifted her arms up, then exhaled and dived forward. Her movements were controlled, like a slow acrobatic dance.

 

Her breathing and the graceful extensions were one with the haunting song. She was like a beautiful swan, serenely gliding a picturesque lake filled with white flowers. Yet underneath the water, the swan was pedalling her feet much like her mind right now. Images of the man who changed her life flashed vividly like a movie and lingered, especially when her eyes were closed. _Jack. Jack. Jack._ His name was now her mantra.

 

_His smile, his frowns…..his voice…are second nature to me now…..like breathing out and breathing in…._

 

She executed a plie, stepped back with the right foot, came back to plank, lowered to the knees, slid her chest and chin extending from the elbow for the cobra. But all her mind could focus on was the way Jack slept on the sofa, his legs resting on the back with Lady sleeping on his chest.

 

_I was serenely independent and content before we met…….surely I could always be that way again and yet……._

 

Flawlessly, she went forward to a yoga press, then up to the up dog, curled the toes under and came to the inverted V, breathing in and breathing out.

 

_Jack froze at the front door, his jaw on the floor when she greeted him in her best Julia Roberts imitation, "Hello darling, busy day at the office?" she asked as she posed seductively in the foyer wearing nothing but his blue silk necktie, a pair of black stilettos and holding Lady as her prop. When he regained his composure, his face broke into a sexy smile._

 

She stepped the right foot forward, dropped the back heel, pushed to standing position, turned hips to the opposite wall, swung arms up and bent one knee sideways for the proud warrior.

 

 _Jack took Lady from her. "Sorry, Lady but we need some privacy." He brought the puppy to her little bed in his office and closed the door. When he came out, there was_ _fire in his eyes as he started undressing. They did not reach the bedroom. He made love to her in the living room, right on the Persian rug._

 

_Afterward, she led him to the bathroom filled with flickering scented candles for what she called "my Julia Roberts special." She filled the bathtub with warm water, sprinkled crushed rose petals, lowered herself into the water and reached out her hand to him._

 

_He leaned back cradled against her, his back resting on her chest, while she wound her legs around his waist. She took a sponge and rubbed his chest with it while massaging his back with her breasts. "Feeling better?" she whispered._

 

_"So much better," he groaned. "This has got to be the best surprise ever. Remind me to thank Julia Roberts for this," His voice had a seductive quality, like smooth, dark chocolate._

 

_"Sure will," she murmured. He moaned when she kissed his neck and nibbled on his earlobe. "I’m warning you, you better stop or else."_

 

_"Or else what?" she teased, trailing her tongue along his neck and nipping his shoulder._

 

_With a growl, he shifted to the other side of the bathtub then pulled her onto his lap wriggling as she straddled him. He gently sponged her back making her shiver with delight. "Or else you’re going to get it," his voice husky with his own need._

 

_She felt herself blushing. "Promises, promis--" The words were hardly out of her lips when his arm cradled her head to plunder her mouth with his. Searing sparks of desire raced through her body. Instinctively, her fingers raked through his hair kissing him back with wild abandon doing a little exploration of her own with her tongue. Her heart began to hammer as she remembered the way her limbs felt wrapped around him, how he’d whispered her name over and over after she’d tilted him over the edge._

 

The decadent luxury of her suite with the sofa covered in gold and cream brocade, armchairs of champagne silk, crystal chandeliers, gilded mirrors and baby grand piano failed to lift her spirit. She missed him and Lady. Her fingers curled around the gold necklace Jack gave her and she stared at the wolf pendant with diamond eyes that seemed to stare back at her.

 

She never had such intense physical attraction to a man, and the time spent with him emblazoned in her mind. The memory of his insatiable passion, the glint of desire in his eyes, and the way he made love to her were enough to make her blush. There were times she almost believed he cared.

 

Sansa’s had her share of admirers who wooed her with chocolates, flowers dinner invitations but she never responded to their overtures. But he was different. Within an hour of meeting Jack, she was writhing in bed beneath him. Their brief affair made her forget who she was. She lived the moment for him and him alone. It was like a fairytale. But like any fairytale, it had to end and they both knew it.

 

She’s got to stop moping over him. There’s her mission to accomplish, the reason she’s in Athens in the first place. In time, she’ll forget Jack, an ordinary property manager and everything that happened between them will just be sweet memories. Yeah, right!

 

* * *

 

 

Jon pushed the papers, unable to concentrate on what he was doing. He was flying in his private jet to Istanbul to visit his family’s hotel and meet with his management team. Leaning back in his chair, his attention was caught by the images in his laptop and he smiled. Alayne downloaded all the pictures from the camera. _"Just in case you forget me,"_ she had said. There’s the one at the Acropolis where they were hamming for the camera, another with Lady sandwiched between their faces and the ones taken in Milos. He couldn’t keep his hands off her in the yellow string bikini.

 

His body tightened with thoughts of her standing at the foyer naked except for his necktie, a pair of black stilettos and cradling Lady in the crook of her arm. She was a combination of childlike innocence, sensual woman and something else, an air of mystery he couldn’t fathom. And it’s not about her fake name either. There’s a certain sadness lurking in those eyes.

 

Lust, sexual fulfilment, unbridled passion was all he expected from women and he had no qualms about letting go once the relationship ran its course. Then how come he can’t get her out of his mind? She was different. While all of his girlfriends became clingy once he started to distance himself, Alayne had a nonchalant attitude. To his annoyance, she made it clear to him that what they had was temporary. He wondered if she had a guy at home. _No, Alayne wouldn't cheat,_ he reassured himself. But if that is true, he'd track that man down and kill him.

 

That is the part of his feelings which he couldn't understand. Memories of her haunted him when he’s awake as well as when he’s asleep. Why was she invading his head? Their two-week affair was all about sex. Okay, it was mind-blowing sex, the kind he’s never experienced before. He hardly knew her apart from the fact that she was smart, opinionated, funny and great in bed. She could easily be replaced by other beautiful women. So why is he still pining for her?

 

All he knows is that he wants her back. In his life. In his bed. As soon as his plane landed, he talked to the head of his security and gave instructions. His parting words were, "Find her."

 

* * *

 

Sansa had been casing the Diamond Star Hotel in Athens for the past two weeks. Before her arrival, she already committed to memory every nook and cranny, every entrance and exit to and from the hotel from a blueprint she obtained from the internet.

 

She checked in under an assumed name, “Alayne Stone” and paid cash. No one questions someone who wore Prada and booked one of the most expensive suites in the hotel. The clerk probably thought she was just another celebrity who didn’t want to be recognized. She also befriended the manager, who looked like a throwback from the 1920s with his sleek, oily hair, olive complexion, beady eyes and moustache as well as a penchant for wearing plaid suites when he’s not working. The reason she knew this – he’d already asked her for a dinner date and was obviously smitten. He was the key to the success of her mission.

 

On the anniversary of each Diamond Star Hotel or Resort, the Diamond Star Necklace was displayed for four weeks inside a glass case at the hotel lobby. The name and logo of the hotel was derived from this necklace. The 110-carat diamond necklace includes square and pear-cut diamonds set in 18k noble gold. The clasp is an exquisite, 14-point diamond star. It was once owned by Mumtaz Mahal the favorite wife of Shah Jahan, the king who had the Taj Mahal built as her final resting place. Considering its history the necklace was currently valued at 100 million dollars.

 

Her heart was hammering inside her chest. There’s no turning back. Today’s the day she’ll take the Diamond Star Necklace. It was lunch time. Except for the manager and his assistant talking by the registration desk, the lobby was empty. She showed no signs of frayed nerves as she walked towards them, her footsteps muffled by plush, thick carpet.

 

“Theon,” she called out flashing a brilliant smile.

 

“Alayne,” he answered with a proprietorial gleam in his eyes. He dropped whatever he was discussing with his assistant and rushed to her side, took hold of her hands and planted a kiss on her cheek. His eyes raked over her from the brown hair, black figure-hugging Versace ruched mini dress with plunging neckline, the length of her legs, all the way down to her feet encased in a black Christian Louboutin cutout bootie. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips almost smacking with glee. He was flattered by the attention she was giving him.

 

“I’m leaving tomorrow and I have yet to touch the diamond necklace,” she said smiling at him seductively. Reaching for his necktie, she pretended to adjust it while giving him a flirtatious gaze. “I guess, I’ll be leaving disappointed.”

 

“Oh no my darling, I always keep my promise,” he preened lasciviously, acting like he just granted her an audience with the pope. Taking her elbow he said, “Come, let’s go and touch that necklace.”

 

As they crossed the lobby, she hardly noticed the soaring Roman columns, the plush sofas and chairs, priceless tapestry that covered a wall and gilded mirrors. They headed toward a roped area where she could see the gleam of the diamonds catching the light overhead. She was sure those were sensor lights and anyone who tries to touch the glass, an alarm will go off. For added precaution, she’s aware that there were motion sensors inside the roped area.

 

Theon pushed a fingerprint identification button that would disable the sensors. He unhooked one of the ropes and they walked close to the glass. He pushed another button hidden underneath the glass case and the glass lifted.

 

Sansa almost gasped at the beauty of the necklace. She wanted to cry knowing how much it meant to her family, not in terms of value because it’s priceless but the many memories that have faded through the years except for one special individual, her brother, Robb. Acting nonchalant she remarked, “Wow, so that’s what 100 million dollars look like.”

 

Theon picked the necklace from the purple velvet bust stand and handed it to her. “You’ll look absolutely ravishing wearing this necklace.”

 

Taking the necklace from him, she raised it up and gazed at the sparkling gems, then held it against her neck. “What do you think?” she asked him, posing provocatively, noting the way his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he stared at the diamonds resting on her cleavage.

 

“Beautiful, you and this necklace belong together,” he rasped.

 

“My thoughts exactly,” she silently replied.

 

“Oh Gods,” she exclaimed in a panic-stricken voice, her hand pressed against her right eye.

 

“What is it? What’s wrong,” Theon asked with a confused expression on his face.

 

“My contacts. I lost one of my contact lenses. Can you help me? I’m not going to move. Can you just maybe take a look around?” she requested excitedly.

 

Theon obediently fell on his knees and started skimming the floor with his hands. He was so absorbed with the task of looking for the contact lens, that by the time he raised his head, she was gone, along with the necklace.

 

Sansa immediately rushed towards the door leading to the stairs. Yanking it open, she barrelled up the stairs to the next floor and ran to the ladies room. She reached beneath the sink and pulled an oversized bag and entered one of the stalls. She has five minutes to get out of the hotel. Taking a red tent dress from the bag she put it on, over her black dress. Next she wrapped a thick black leather belt around her waist, and put on a blond chest level wig. She placed the necklace in a mailers box and stuffed it in the bag. Putting on dark sunglasses, she went out of the ladies room and took the elevator to the ground floor. By the time she reached the lobby, there was already a small commotion going on among the staff and security personnel. No one noticed a lady in red going out of the door, hailing a taxi and leaving the hotel.

 

On the way to the airport, Sansa dropped by the post office and couriered the necklace to a post office box number in London. Just as the sun was setting in Athens, she was on a plane bound for the UK.

 

“How could you be so stupid to let this happen?” Jon bellowed in between expletives at the quaking manager. “If it weren’t for the fact that I need you as a witness, I would have fired you already.”

 

Turning to the head of security he asked, “So what can you tell me?”

 

“Sir, we viewed the security tapes and I can tell you, she’s a professional,” he answered in a soft-spoken voice, a stark contrast to his immense size. Tall with broad shoulders and thick, muscled arms, he looked like a wrestler. “She’s probably aware of the hidden cameras so she always walked with her head bowed and sometimes she’d wear dark sunglasses. She also paid cash so it will be difficult to trace her.”

 

Jon was not concerned about losing a valuable piece of jewelry because the Diamond Star necklace was insured. However, the necklace had been valuable to his mother and the symbol of how his family rose from humble beginnings to become a force to be reckoned with in terms of wealth and influence. “Send me a copy and I’ll review it later,” he instructed.

 

“Theon, tell me more about this woman. Describe her to me.”

 

“Sir, she checked in two weeks ago. She about 22 or 23 years old with brown hair, very friendly and asked questions about the necklace. I also noticed her eyes.”

 

“What about her eyes?”

 

“She’s got beautiful blue eyes.”

 

Jon suddenly remembered a pair of blue eyes brimming with desire, sensual mouth swollen from his kisses, thick chestnut brown hair splayed on the pillow and a ravishing, naked body writhing and arching against him in the throes of passion.

 

“What’s her name?” he inquired, his eyes boring through the hapless Theon.

 

“Sir, I believe she gave a fictitious name,” he nervously answered.

 

“What’s her name?” Jon repeated his question, his voice low and lethal.

 

“Her name is Alayne Stone.”

 

Something exploded inside him. Could this be just a coincidence or did Alayne Stone just commit the biggest mistake of her entire life?

 

Glancing at Theon contemptuously he said, “I’ve heard enough.”

 

The moment Theon was out of the room, Jon turned his attention back to the head of security. With a smirk on his face, he said, “We’ll find her. No one challenges me and gets away with it.”

 

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa sighed as she sat on the sofa of her living room and glanced at her friend whose face froze with a surprised expression. "Close your mouth, Jeyne."

 

"You mean, you..you…had an affair with a complete stranger?" she sputtered, her eyes big as saucers. "Are you nuts?"

 

She brought her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top, a habit she’s developed when she felt cornered.

 

Jeyne blew out a breath. "Sans, what’s going on? I mean, you were never like this before. You hardly paid attention to men and all of a sudden you’re gallivanting around Athens with someone using a fake name. I’m beginning to think that this was your way of dealing with grief for the loss of Robb."

 

She looked into her eyes and smiled. "I understand you’d feel that way, Jeyne, but the opposite happened. I forgot my grief in the two weeks we were together. He made me happy, safe and……..loved, even if it was just temporary."

 

"Oh Sansa, you’ve fallen in love with this stranger haven’t you?" her eyes softened as she gazed at her friend. In her ivory silk pajamas, Sansa looked fragile and vulnerable.

 

She met Jeyne’s eyes with unflinching resolve. "Love had nothing to do with the whole fling. It was all about lust, nothing else."

 

"Of course I believe you," Jeyne retorted, glaring at her. "And I’m Lady Gaga."

 

Just then, the doorbell rang. Jeyne frowned. "Were you expecting a visitor?"

 

Sansa groaned. "Oh my god, I totally forgot. One of my colleagues at the insurance company was supposed to come over to discuss something with me. Be a good girl, Jeyne, and talk to him while I change." Before Jeyne could respond, she disappeared into her bedroom.

 

With a sigh Jeyne opened the door and her jaw dropped. Before her stood the most gorgeous man she’s ever laid eyes on. He was tall with dark, thick hair that reached the collar of his light grey shirt. He’s powerfully built and the dark grey suit enhanced the breadth of his shoulder. He smiled from a mouth made for kissing and his black as coal eyes stared at her with a predatory gleam. "Is Sansa around?" Shit, even his voice was sexy.

 

"Yes, she’s expecting you. Come in." She stepped aside to let him in, and the citrus male scent filled her nostrils.

 

Extending his hand he said, "By the way, I’m Daario."

 

Her hand got lost in his. "Jeyne, Jeyne Poole."

 

"Pleased to meet you, Jeyne. Such a lovely name for a beautiful woman," he murmured. It made her pulse beat like an erratic drum.

 

"Hmmm….are you always this forward at first meeting?" she mumbled.

 

"Let’s just say I believe in the telling the truth."

 

"Oh sure. Why don’t you take a seat. Sans will be out soon." She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. "Please tell her that I’m on my way to the office and will call her later." Without waiting for his reply, she closed the door behind her.

 

Sansa emerged from her room in white safari-inspired top with zebra print, a scoop neckline and three-quarter sleeve paired with a black pair of pants. Her dainty feet were covered by black patent and lace sandals. "Where’s Jeyne?"

 

Daario stood up, gave her a hug and kissed her cheek. "She said she’s going to the office and will call you later. You didn’t tell me you have a cute friend."

 

She made a face, motioning him to take a seat. "So you can add a notch to your bedpost? No way. She’s off limits you hear?"

 

He laughed as he sat down the armchair. "Loud and clear." Taking an envelop from inside the pocket of his jacket, he gave it to Sansa. "Your commission for the stolen bronze beaker. It had already been deposited in a numbered account in your name. That is just the proof of deposit. You saved the company millions of dollars at the same time, and you raked in quite a sum of money. You’re on your way to becoming a wealthy woman."

 

Sansa opened the envelope and saw that five million dollars have been deposited in her account. This was the biggest commission she’s received.

 

He studied her face. "So, what have you been doing in Athens? I tried to locate you but it proved to be unsuccessful. Were you using another one of your aliases again?"

 

Her mouth curved in a meaningful smile. "It’s personal and yes, I used an alias." Daario was also consultant, an expert in security systems for the insurance company. He was a year older than Sansa, and they’ve worked together on assignments locating and retrieving stolen goods. Handsome and rich in his own right, he attracted women like moths to flame.

 

"What’s so personal that you needed an alias?"

 

"I can’t tell you, Daario," she answered, averting her gaze. How can she tell him she just turned into a thief?

 

"I won’t push you but if you’re in some kind of trouble, I’m just a phone call away."

 

"Thank you."

 

"By the way, does your friend know the scope of your work with the company?"

 

"No. As far as she’s concerned, I just authenticate articles. So what brings you here?"

 

"To deliver your commission and to give you a heads up on another assignment. It was supposed to be in Santorini, Greece. I could have met you there had I been successful in locating your whereabouts. Do you think you’re up to it?" He had the utmost respect for Sansa. She was one tough Lady underneath the innocent and feminine exterior. With her expertise in antiquities and his own ability in finding treasures in the most secured places, they made a pretty good team. And the pay was not bad either.

 

She was not ready. Still reeling from her daring mission of taking a priceless necklace, Sansa preferred to let the dust settle, clear her head before embarking on another assignment. "I can’t decide right now, Daario. If they need someone right away, I suggest they hire another person to take my place."

 

Daario leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and an expression of regret gleamed in his eyes. "There’s no one to take your place, Sansa. You know you’re the best."

 

"I’m sorry, but I’m not up to it right now," she mumbled.

 

* * *

 

　

Jon rested his elbows on the balustrade of the open air terrace staring at the mythical view of the Acropolis, one hand nursing a glass of champagne. It’s even more majestic at night, the massive columns illuminated by lights emanating from within and twinkling like fireflies from below the craggy hilltop. Behind him was the grand ballroom separated by closed French doors that acted as a shield between him and the muted sound of the orchestra, the tinkling of glasses, the hushed conversation and laughter from hundreds of guests inside.

 

What on earth was wrong with his head? Brooding over a woman when he never lacked for anything, least of all the company of a willing, beautiful partner. _It’s been six months Jon, get over her. She’s not worth it. She’s a liar and a thief who seduced and then stole from you._

 

His mouth twisted into smirk and his eyes glittered with suppressed anger. How can he want someone so much that it hurts but at the same time despise her? Sansa Stark. Finally, he knew her name. After a thorough investigation from three private investigation agencies and his own security team, they were able to piece the puzzle that was "Alayne Stone" and trace her whereabouts.

 

A few weeks ago he had watched the video from the security camera. Although he could not see the face of this woman who registered as "Alayne Stone," there was an eerie resemblance in height and skin color. 

 

His mouth had went dry when he saw the camera spanning the swimming pool area and he saw a familiar figure in a yellow string bikini walk towards the pool. Her face was half covered by a straw hat and oversize sunglasses but the flash from her neck caught his attention. Freezing the video, he had zoomed in on her chest. She was wearing a gold necklace with a wolf pendant. The very same necklace he gave to Alayne.

 

Apparently, Sansa lived on her own after university and is the owner of an upscale antique shop. She came to Athens not long after her brother died and occasionally visits her aunt, Lysa and her uncle, Petyr Baelish. Seems like her brother Robb had also tried to steal the necklace but wasn't successful. But he did teach Sansa self-defense, fencing and all the tricks he knew. The only part of the puzzle that didn’t fit was, why did she steal the necklace? And why did her brother try too?

 

His well laid out plan to take his revenge was now in place. It’s time to meet Sansa face to face again.

 

"There you are darling?" a soft voice, the din from the inside and the click of the French door closing broke his train of thought. Ygritte sashayed over and linked her arms possessively around his arm, brushing her breasts invitingly against him. Her figure was moulded in a glittering claret one-shoulder gown accessorized by a dazzling amount of diamonds on her neck and ears. Gifts he gave to her. To let her off. Her red hair was piled up in a sleek chignon with wisps framing her face. Too bad he was into brown hair now. Damn Alayne Stone. No, Sansa Stark.

 

Ygritte let her gaze sweep adoringly over him in his Armani tux. "What are you doing here by your lonesome? Shouldn’t you be in there entertaining your guests?"

 

He stretched to his full height and faced Ygritte. She came back promising never to make demands from him and said she wanted to do it the right way, getting to know each other first before deciding if they want a relationship. And she made great effort in entertaining his guests. Even his father seemed taken by Ygritte, smiling from where he stood, chatting with his business cronies. He felt a little guilty at how hard she seemed to be trying when he was cooped up thinking about a girl who stole from him. "They’re so engrossed in having a good time they won’t even notice my absence," he murmured, his face a mask in the muted light of the terrace.

 

She moved closer and traced her finger along the side of his jaw. "Where are you?" she whispered, "you seem to be far away. Is there some way I can bring you back here, with me, in this magical place?"

 

He rewarded her with half a smile. "Sorry, I’m just tired, that’s all. Why don’t you join your friends in there while I call it a night and retire to my penthouse."

 

"I have a better idea," she said, linking her arms around his neck, "why don’t I join you? You haven't touched me since you came back."

 

"Not now," he answered, placing his hands on the curve of her waist. "I need rest." A vision with long brown hair and blue eyes spread out in his bed, naked except for the wolf pendant resting between the hollow of creamy breasts danced in his head.

 

Ygritte appeared to be placated by his answer as she smiled widely. He kissed her cheek, talked to his father briefly, and then left.

 

* * *

 

Sansa pushed the door of the greenhouse and watched her aunt standing among her beloved orchids. She’s already dressed for dinner in a lime green sleeveless green taffeta dress that flattered her slim figure. The red hair Sansa inherited was pinned in a French twist and she was wearing her favorite pearl necklace and earrings. "Aunt, what are you doing here? It’s almost time for dinner."

 

She was visiting her aunt for the weekend in the family-owned Eagle Island resort. The resort included a hotel that occupied one side of the valley and villa suites perched on the other side. With a five-star rating, it boasts of a conference and banquet facilities, casino, duty-free shop, golf and ocean sports. The natural beauty of the resort created an ambiance of leisure and luxury.

 

Situated nearby was the mansion of the Tully family, the place her aunt considered home. Her aunt inherited it after Catelyn passed away.

 

Lysa smiled at her daughter. "I’m cutting flowers for the dinner table. Your uncle told me he’s got an important dinner guest, a billionaire who owns hotels and resorts all over the world." She removed her gardening gloves, picked the basket filled with orchids and handed this to Sansa. "You look lovely in that dress, Sansa," she murmured with a tinge of envy that she covered up by pinching her cheek and giving her a kiss. Then she noticed the pendant. She lifted it for a closer look. "So unique and very pretty, where’d you get this?

 

Sansa could not tell her the truth. That it was given by a stranger with whom she had an affair. "It’s a souvenir I brought from Athens," she mumbled while taking the pendant from Lysa's hand who had been gripping it almost too tightly with jealousy.

 

Her aunt answered her with an icy smile. "Don’t believe in fairytales, my dear. Or you might get burned," she quipped. And Sansa could see a disturbing evil gleam in her eyes.

 

* * *

 

The dining room was redesigned by Sansa turning it into a showplace with an artful flair. Embossed gold leather panels envelope the room which has a Murano chandelier and late 18th century bookcase housing a collection of antique plates. A persian rug, sky blue silk curtains draped over floor to ceiling windows add texture and color. The dinner table gleamed with crystal and china.

　

"They’re in the study," informed the maid while placing the vase filled with the colorful orchids at the center of the dining table. "Mr.Baelish said that it won’t take long and they will join you in a few minutes.

 

Sansa walked to the window to gaze at the beautiful garden below with a pond. Being around her uncle always turned her stomach into nervous knots. Petyr was her hero uncle until the death of Robb. Then he turned from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde.

 

The murmur of voices including her uncle’s indicated they were approaching the dining room. She pasted a smile on her face, turned around and in a split second her world came crashing around her. Her legs almost gave way and she felt numb.

 

Jack. Magnificent in a dark suit and white shirt, he stood beside her uncle. His head was slanted to one side, and his lips curled in a derisive smile. Then his confused gaze fell to her hair. She could swore he almost groaned. Then quickly he recovered and his glacial eyes flicked a scathing look of contempt, holding her gaze. And like someone under a hypnotic spell, she couldn’t look away. What is he doing in their home? How did he find her? And why did he look so angry?

 

She barely noticed her uncle introduce him to her aunt and then Petyr gestured towards her. "This is my niece Sansa. Sansa, say hi to our company’s new partner, Jon Targaryen, the head of Diamond Star Group of Companies." He’s a billionaire and owned the hotel she just robbed? Suddenly, she felt warning bells in her head and tightness in her gut. She’s been in dangerous situations before and the first rule was not to panic.

 

Extending her hand she managed to croak, "Pleased to meet you. Welcome to my aunt's home, Mr. Targaryen."

 

"Thank you," he murmured taking her hand, squeezing it tight that she almost winced. "Please call me Jon. I feel we’ve known each other already."

 

Petyr remarked, "Jon told me that the symbol of their company, the  _'Diamond Star Necklace'_  was stolen from the hotel in Athens. The thief turned out to be a woman, and she ran off with a one hundred million dollar necklace. I’d say she’s got a lot of guts. Have you identified her yet?"

 

Jon turned his eyes on Sansa. "We still don’t know her real name but she registered in the hotel as Alayne Stone.

 

She almost gasped. He knows. It’s all there. In his eyes. In the mocking expression on his face.

 

Sansa sat stiffly across him, and her knees were trembling so badly that she could hardly bring the food to her mouth. The sizzling awareness between them was so palpable that she wondered whether her uncle and aunt noticed. She was grateful Petyr dominated the conversation, discussing business, so her participation was minimal.

 

Jon suppressed the tendency to stare at Sansa. She looked like she was going to faint when she saw him, her face paled and her eyes widened. The moment he set eyes on her, he couldn’t control the heady rush of seeing her again. He found himself glancing at her repeatedly. His breath had caught in his throat when he realized that Ala--Sansa is a redhead! A tall, creamy skinned glorious redhead. He didn't know how it was possible but she managed to look even more beautiful in red hair. It made blue eyes pop and complimented her kissable pink lips. Now sitting across him, she’s stunning in an empire chiffon dress with floral prints. The smocking above the empire waist emphasized the luscious curves of her breast and the spaghetti strap called attention to her silky skin. And...she’s wearing the necklace he gave her. A sense of possession struck him. Mine. He still desired her. Even if she was a lying thief.

 

"That’s an interesting pendant," he said, willing her to look at him.

 

"I noticed it too," her aunt chimed in.

 

Sansa's cheeks washed with color. His eyes challenged her with brooding intensity. "I brought it from Athens," she stated, her voice faint, her eyes pleading him to stop.

 

"We must have the same taste because I have one like it except the pendant’s a dragon," he needled, unable to resist putting her on the spot.

 

Petyr interrupted. "This is great. You two should get to know each other better."

 

The conversation shifted back to business until dinner ended. Petyr stood and picked up his glass of champagne. "I’d like to make an announcement. Jon’s Diamond Group of Companies now own a portion of Eagle Island Resort and also, I just transferred ownership of this mansion to him. He’s now the proud owner of this place."

 

"What? Robin loves this place. You can't just--" Sansa began to sputter her protest, and her eyes glittered with fury.

 

Petyr interrupted her with a warning stare. "Sansa, we'll talk about this later."

 

Lysa clutched Jon's arm with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I’m sorry, Jon, that you had to see this."

 

"Please don’t apologize, Mrs.Baelish, I totally understand."

 

Jon stayed for after dinner drinks while Lysa excused herself and retired to her room, leaving Petyr and Sansa to bid him goodnight.

 

As soon as the door closed behind Jon, Petyr clamped around Sansa’s wrist, pulling her towards him. With eyes filled with rage, he rasped, "Don’t ever embarrass me in front of my guest again. Be glad that your whore of an aunt and her son have a roof over their heads."

 

"Don't you love aunt Lysa?" She met his eyes without flinching.

 

He moved forward completing invading her personal space and shoving his face within inches of hers. "No, I loved _your_ mother. And you, my darling, are just like her," he whispered and his minty breath ghosted over hers as he trailed a finger from her nose to her lips, "cut from the same cloth." He proceeded to pour himself a drink and turned his attention back to Sansa. "You’re not in the position to argue with me, Sansa. Think about Robin's fate." Sansa knew a threat when she heard it and this was definitely one. After taking a sip from his glass, he continued, "And Jon wants to have dinner with you tomorrow night. Wear your sexiest dress and give him a good time. He seems to fancy you. He’s my biggest investor so don’t do anything that will disappoint me."

　

* * *

 


	8. Chapter 8

Early evening threw a greyish blue hue over the sea and sky when Sansa stood nervously outside the three-bedroom villa where Jon’s staying. Her nerves were frayed from a sleepless night worrying about how she’s going to face him. She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. Jon opened the door. He did not say anything and just ran a searing glance up and down her body. She fought the urge to squirm, feeling almost naked in the paisley pink and lilac halter mini with a slit on the right leg. The plunging neckline barely covered her breasts. She was definitely giving that "come hither" vibe.

 

While he was eyeing her, she had the chance to observe him. He was wearing a white and black shirt with rolled up sleeves and grey pants, drawing attention to his powerful all male physique. Even though six months had passed, vivid memories of him and their time together lingered. But he was looking at her now with obvious distaste.

 

"Are you coming in, or are you going to just stand there?" he bit out impatiently. They bristled at each other from either side of the door until he reached out and pulled her inside. She yanked her hand from his grasp and preceded him. The large dining and living area with a high ceiling opens onto a vast wooden sundeck and a large swimming pool, with all rooms offering superb sea views.

 

Turning around she asked, "How did you find me? What’s your business with Petyr?"

 

"Hmm no sweet greeting. No _"Busy day at the office darling?"_ No Julia Roberts special," he sighed in mock disappointment and then put on a blank expression. "Unfortunately for you, you left a clue. Your fake name and the necklace I gave you. It was just a matter of time and we were able to trace your whereabouts. The rest fell into place. When I found your uncle having a problem with financing, I stepped in to bail him out. You had me fooled, didn’t you?" He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Where is the Diamond Star necklace?"

 

She knew that he knew but her first instinct was to deny and act shocked and outraged that he should accuse her of stealing the necklace. "Let me go." Shaking, she dislodged herself from his grip and backed away from him. "That necklace belonged to my family. Your mother took something that did not belong to her, and now, her son is using his wealth to take over my cousin’s home."

 

"How dare you turn the tables on me and my mother when you started the whole thing?" he spat the wods with disgust. "Acting on a fantasy weaved by your brother? You should be thankful I did not report you to the authorities," The first time he set eyes on her, her naivete and sweet innocence touched a chord in a place he’s never been before. Tonight, it was blatantly obvious she was sent by her weasel of a uncle to seduce him. She looked like a cheap imitation of those women who threw themselves at him with calculating determination.

 

With eyes flashing, she lashed out, "Don’t you dare accuse my brother of lying. He provided proofs to back up his story." She dug in her purse, took two pieces of paper and handed these to Jon. "As you can see that’s a certificate of ownership stating my mother as the owner and also included is a certificate of authenticity. The originals are in a safety deposit box. So you go ahead and tell the authorities because I’ll fight you tooth and nail. One more thing, where is the real necklace?"

 

His mouth grimaced in disbelief. "Are you telling me the necklace is fake? I’ve heard excuses in my life but this takes the cake. Insurance companies do not insure fakes and the Diamond Star necklace was insured."

 

Sansa pulled a velvet box and took out the necklace. "Here, see for yourself. Whoever copied this necklace was very good. Go ahead, have it appraised."

 

"Oh, you can count on it," he said, examining the necklace. "I won’t take the word of a thief. By the way, I expect the house to be vacated after two weeks. That’s what Petyr promised me."

 

She remembered her conversation with Robin in the greenhouse. It will break his heart if he was forced to leave his home. "Jon, I know you’re angry and want to take revenge by going after my family’s holdings, but the only person you’ll be hurting is my poor cousin. He’s got nothing to do with what transpired between us so please, allow me to buy it back from you."

 

"No," he answered determinedly. "You should have thought about your _cousin_ before you embarked on your quest to steal the necklace. I’ve decided the mansion is an ideal vacation home for my future family when the time comes for me to get married."

 

Sansa was stunned to realize she felt a twinge of jealousy when he mentioned family. She couldn’t imagine him marrying another woman. "Name your price Jon," she said in a hoarse voice. "What would it take for you to return the mansion to Robin's family?"

 

Jon lounged indolently against the back of the sofa. He studied her. Standing across the room, her beautiful eyes threw daggers, and her fists were clenched by her side. One thing was certain, he desired her. Desperately. More than he’d ever desired a woman before. "The price would have to be you….to live with me…..as my girlfriend. In return, I’ll give back the mansion to your cousin."

 

The self-absorbed, conceited jerk. "I’m not for sale," she blurted. "I’m sure a billionaire like you would have enough women hovering around like sharks fighting over a piece of meat. Why don’t you take one of them?"

 

"Cut the act," he drawled. He rose from the sofa and sauntered over to where she was standing. "The moment I saw you yesterday, I’ve made up my mind not to let you out of my sight until I find the necklace. As my girlfriend, you’ll always be by my side."

 

With an anguished cry she said, "Why? You don’t even like me."

 

"I hate to admit it but I still want you inspite of the fact that you’re a thief and a conniving cheat. You planned everything, didn’t you? Down to the color of your hair. Brown instead of red. Showing up in that club six months ago, acting like a damsel in distress. Even had an affair with me just so you can put your dirty plan in place."

 

"I didn’t even know your real name," she instantly objected. "What happened between us was not exactly one-sided. You were the one who asked me to stay. Please don’t do this. I can’t be your girlfriend."

 

"I need your answer now. What will it be?"

 

"We’ll tear each other apart," she cried, forcing herself not to burst into tears. He was so close, and she could see the smouldering intensity in his eyes.

 

"You had no qualms staying in my home and sleeping with me for two weeks. Think of it as a continuation of what we had six months ago." Her familiar scent enveloped him and having her so close made him realize just how much he missed her.

 

"How can I be sure you’ll fulfil your end of the bargain?" she asked.

 

"Once you agree, I’ll immediately instruct my lawyer to draw a contract giving your aunt and cousin the right to stay at the mansion till Robin gets a place of his own, and then the mansion reverts back to me."

 

"How can I be your girlfriend when my home is in London and you live in Greece?"

 

"Where I go you go, where I stay you stay. Do you get the picture now, Sansa?"

 

"Bu…but I have my own life, my business. I can’t just walk away from all that. And I am not some kind of a….a….," she sputtered.

 

"I just need a simple answer from you. Yes or No?"

 

Bowing her head down, Sansa sighed. "Yes," she whispered her acquiescence after a moment of hesitation. She can’t allow her cousin to suffer for a mistake she committed.

 

Jon looked at her with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "Then let’s seal it with a kiss." He reached out and hauled her against his body, his mouth descending on her slightly parted lips in a crushing kiss. One hand pulled the pins from her hair and cradled her head while the other wrapped around her waist.

 

When their lips touched it was like igniting a fire. She wanted to pull back but her body betrayed her and gave in to the hot slide of his tongue plunging inside her mouth, teasing, exploring. Her mind went blank leaving her only with the sensation of floating in his arms. By their own volition, her fingers caressed his chest and swept upwards to his shoulders and tangled with his hair.

 

His hands moved. She felt his fingers tugging at the zipper and the slide of her dress down her body to fall in a heap around her ankles, leaving her almost naked except for a scrap of lace.

 

"Sansa," she heard him moan her name, his mouth leaving hers and moving down her neck, tracing a fiery path with his tongue, along her throat, her shoulders, while his hands slid down her bottom and he lifted her higher. She barely noticed him carrying her across the room towards the bedroom.

 

The back of her knees brushed against the edge of the bed and she landed softly on the mattress. Standing before her he started removing his clothes. Her passion filled eyes raked over him while he undressed, showing off his wide shoulders, sculpted chest, muscular legs and the aroused state of his manhood.

 

Then she unceremoniously slid out of bed, stood up and started heading for the door. His hand immediately clamped around her arm swinging her around to face him.

 

His expression changed from lust to disbelief. "May I remind you that you agreed to be my girlfriend," he snapped.

 

"Not so fast Jon," she retorted. "You were just supposed to kiss me to seal the deal, not seduce me to your bed. I am not going to sleep with you until I see the contract drawn by your lawyer giving my aunt the right to live in the mansion."

 

"Don’t challenge me, Sansa," he whispered while looking at her intensely. After a beat, he sighed as he let go of her arm and proceeded to pick up his clothes and put them on. Not bothering to button his shirt, he ran his fingers through his hair and let out an exasperated breath. "First thing tomorrow morning, we’ll deal with the contract."

 

"Good. One thing I ask is that my aunt and uncle should never find out about our little fling in Athens and the necklace."

 

Watching him unravel, his face crunched up with sexual frustration, she felt empowered. And in a gesture of defiance, she stretched languidly running her fingers through her hair, showing off her near naked body from her tousled hair, slender neck, the proud thrust of her breasts, long, shapely legs and barely covered juncture between her thighs. She held the pose for a few seconds and then turned around slowly, giving him a view of her smooth back, curvy hips and firm butt. "I’m sorry I can’t join you for dinner." With a muffled "goodnight," she sashayed out the door.

 

Jon followed her little exhibition, obviously done to irritate him. He’d seen women in different stages of undress, women who flaunt themselves to tempt him but she’s the only one who could reduce him into a passion addled teenager.

　

* * *

 

Sansa woke early the next day and decided to go for a swim to clear her head. The past two days had her on an emotional roller coaster with the sudden appearance of Jon and his demand to make her his girlfriend. Shame, anger, confusion, desire flooded her.

 

She never regretted stealing the necklace but the shame she brought upon her Stark nane hurt her deeply. Her father taught her to be honest, truthful and have a sense of moral values. Those values were important but one thing prevailed, her quest for justice. Justice for the mother whose legacy was stolen.

 

Jon’s idea of revenge was to relegate her to the level of a common prostitute. In some twisted way, she understood the reason behind his actions. Like her, part of his legacy, the symbol of his family’s fortune, was taken from him. This was his justification for humiliating her. He believed she used her own sexuality to seduce and therefore, he’s giving her a dose of her own medicine. Jon succeeded in making her feel cheap and vulgar if that was his intention.

 

The irony of it all was that her desire for him was still there, inspite of everything that’s happened. Last night, she almost gave in to her own need and it took all her self-control to push him away. He had a way of turning her brain into mush, making her forget everything except the pleasure of his touch, his eyes black and shimmering with lust for her, his insatiable mouth all over her body.

 

The cool water of the infinity pool surrounded by palm trees and wild orchids invigorated her, waking up every muscle in her body as she pushed herself harder. Then, closing her eyes, she lay still on her back floating, bobbing like a cork, letting the water gently rock her. Limp like a ragdoll, she emptied her mind and let all the tension leave her body.

 

The gentle swish, swish of the water was lulling her into a relaxed state when the sound of her name vibrated in her ear.

"Sansa."

 

"Hmm," she answered automatically like someone coming out a fog.

 

"Sans."

 

This time the voice was closer. She opened her eyes and was dumbfounded to see Jon crouching by the side of the pool staring at her. Caught unaware, her body reacted and flailed before dropping like a stone underneath the water and she surfaced sputtering like a drowning cat.

 

When she gained her balance, she brushed tendrils off her face and glared at him, her face stained with embarrassment. He was grinning from ear to ear evidently enjoying himself at her expense.

 

"What are you doing here so early in the morning?" she demanded.

 

"And good morning to you too," he drawled, ignoring her unwelcoming attitude. "Come on over and I’ll tell you," he said taking the large white towel draped on the chair and holding it out for her.

 

Self-consciously, she hauled herself from the pool, aware of his eyes on her in her red bikini. She resented the way he’s looking at her. After she agreed to be his girlfriend she was reduced to the humiliating position of a chattel like the house and car he owned. "So, what’s so urgent that can’t wait?"

 

He wrapped the towel around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "After you agreed to be my girlfriend, I called my lawyer to draw the necessary documents. Are you upto meeting him after you change?"

 

She wriggled from his grasp. "That soon? You have a lawyer at your beck and call?"

 

"Money talks and I don’t believe in wasting time. Go and change. I’d like to get this over with."

 

"Of course, your wish is my command, Oh lord and master," she spat sarcastically and marched off in a huff.

 

His eyes followed her, straying on the sway of her hips and the smooth as silk legs. God, she’s beautiful even when she’s angry.

 

By the time Sansa went to Jon's villa to meet the lawyer, sunshine was filtering through the trees and fell across the lake, painting everything in vivid color. She’s changed into a cinnamon silk spaghetti straps halter sundress and swept her hair in a ponytail. The lawyer turned out to be a middle aged man with greying hair, looking dignified in a dark suit. After Jon briefly introduced him, Tyrion Lannister, they took their seats on opposite sides of the dining table. The lawyer handed the document to Jon who read and signed it then passed it on to Sansa.

 

"I’m not going to sign until I read the contents," she quipped.

 

"Go ahead. Don’t think I’m coercing you into signing the document. You can still back out if you like," he answered, and his voice low and challenging.

 

The document was straightforward, giving her cousin full rights to live in the mansion except for the portion where it stated that she’s to remain with Jon until the real necklace was recovered and cannot entertain or enter into any relationship with another man while they’re together. "What are these clauses? What if we fail to recover the necklace? And what do you mean I can’t have a relationship with another man?"

 

"Those clauses are a guarantee you don’t run out on me the moment you sign the document. If you have a boyfriend tucked away, get rid of him. I don’t share."

 

Stormy eyes bore through him. "Do you think I’m not aware of your dirty little secret? Your life is like a sordid x-rated book. I just read and saw pictures of you and your girlfriend at a recent party in Athens plastered all over the internet. For your information, I don’t share either so get rid of your playmate Ygritte."

 

Tyrion was trying hard to keep a straight face at her retort and not burst out laughing.

 

"You’re not in the position to dictate your terms," he murmured. The last time he invited Ygritte for dinner, he told her he’s letting her go and explained that salvaging a relationship that had run its course was not going to work. But he’s not going to give the little spitfire in front to him the satisfaction of knowing she’s the cause of his decision to end it with Ygritte.

 

Staring daggers at him, she took the pen and signed the document.

 

* * *

 　

It was drizzling when Sansa arrived at the entrance of Embrujo Flamenco. From the outside, the façade was unassuming and nondescript. Having a taste for Spanish cuisine, it was typical of Daario to choose this particular restaurant.

 

He had agreed to help her run the shop while she's gone. Daario’s just the right man for the job, considering his expertise. She had a strong feeling that once Jon stepped out with her by his side, the shop will be inundated with reporters and the curious public. That’s why she's meeting him for dinner to discuss what needs to be done in her absence. She also felt a little guilty of lying to Jeyne that the reason she was leaving was because Jon's offer was too generous to pass up and that having a big client like Jon is a coup for them. Knowing that Jeyne would worry, Sansa avoided telling her about the agreement to be Jon’s girlfriend.

 

Closing her umbrella, Sansa entered the restaurant. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the place. It was elegant with cream walls, ebony tables and chairs and flickering candles. A hostess wearing a red Spanish dress with ruffled top and full skirt with ruffles approached her. "May I help you?" she spoke softly.

 

"I’m here to meet a friend, Daario," she replied.

 

"Oh yes, follow me please." Taking the umbrella, she handed it to an attendant and proceeded to escort Sansa.

 

Daario was seated at a corner table separated by an intricate wrought iron divider screen. He was definitely an eye candy in his dark blue suit and open at the neck blue and white striped shirt. His mouth broke into a smile when he saw her approaching. Easing his muscular frame off the chair, he stood up, all six feet of what women would term as "a hunk" and pulled a chair for her.

 

"So, you tossed me for this Jon guy," he remarked in a matter-of-fact tone while slicing grilled sirloin into bite size pieces then placing portions on her plate. Harmless flirting was their way of greeting each other. But he’s more than a brother to her after Robb and Robin. "And now he’s blackmailing you to sleep with him."

 

"Don’t be crude," she scolded him. A hovering waiter approached their table carrying the bottle of red wine Daario chose and proceeded to fill their goblets. After taking their order, he slightly bowed and left. "How’s your investigation progressing?"

 

Daario took a sip of wine. "It was definitely an inside job and more than one person was involved. Somewhere along the way, when the necklace was transported from one hotel to another, a switch was made. Unfortunately, we don’t know when it happened and watching all the security videos would be tantamount to searching for a needle in a haystack. It’s not easy but we’ve done this before, we’ve recovered stolen treasures from the most unlikely places."

 

A thoughtful expression crossed Sansa's face. "I’ve done my own investigation. For whatever reason, the theft of the necklace was hushed up. This would have been a big story in the tabloids considering his popularity but somehow, he kept it from the media. I’ve also discovered the necklace was insured with our insurance company and so far, no claim had been filed." She’d always thought Jon was intent on finding the necklace. The necklace was more important to him than the insurance money.

 

"Is Jon aware you’re continuing to search for the necklace?" he asked.

 

"No, and I want to keep him in the dark. Once I find the real necklace, I have no intention of giving it back," she declared. "Thanks for agreeing to help around the shop. At the same time, I would like you to focus on gathering more information on the necklace."

 

"You may want to rethink your plan to keep the necklace," Daario chided her. "Jon is a ruthless businessman and he can be mean when crossed. The man has abundant wealth and power to crush someone who gets in his way. He can chew an inexperienced girl like you and spit you out without batting an eyelash."

 

Her lips curled in derision. No one can stop her from her mission to take possession of the necklace, not even Jon. "I’ve been chasing that necklace for a long time and I’m not giving up."

 

Daario laughed softly. Jon may just have met his match because Sansa’s fearless. When push comes to shove she’ll fight for the necklace to the bitter end. "Words of wisdom Sans, tread carefully around Jon. Right now, he’s pushed you into a corner and had you dangling on a string. Even made you move in with him. Did you know that he never lived with any one of his girlfriends? You’re the first in a long line who gets to stay under the same roof with him. In other words, he’s got the upper hand. He’s making sure that you can’t get away from him."

 

Sansa ignored the tension in the pit of her stomach. Jon had manipulated events in his favor and she hated the fact that she was rendered helpless and vulnerable, acceding to his wishes for the sake of Robin. She cast Daario a stormy glance. "We’ll see about that."

 

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

The rain stopped when Sansa and Daario left the restaurant. Somehow, the night was cooler and the air smelt fresh and clean, reminding her of oncoming spring. Daario hugged her and kissed her cheek before she slid inside her silver BMW SUV. As she manoeuvred through the highway, her thoughts wandered back to Jon. After their meeting with his lawyer, he gave her a week to prepare for their departure back to Greece. She barely had time to say good-bye to her aunt and Robin after which Petyr had called her to his office. He was beside himself with glee when Jon called to inform him of their agreement. He had stroked her face for a few more seconds than which would be considered appropriate.

 

_"Better take care of this face, otherwise, Jon may change his mind," he whispered. "Just make sure you keep him happy and contented. Don’t upset me Sansa, for the sake of Robin."_

 

Recalling the incident with Petyr made her shudder. She wasn’t afraid of him but she was fearful of what he might do to Robin. Sansa tolerated his verbal and sometimes emotional abuse for the sake of Robin. So far, Petyr only showed his cruelty but never did anything to physically harm her cousin. She’ll make him pay dearly if he crosses the boundary.

 

She was about to park the SUV in the underground parking garage of her apartment building when the doorman waved at her. Parking by the front entrance, she opened the car window and greeted him as he peered and flashed her an apologetic smile. "There’s a gentleman waiting for you, Ms. Stark."

 

A frown creased her brows. "Where is he?"

 

Pointing to the visitor’s parking in front of the building, he replied. "Over there. He’s been waiting for the past hour. Maybe it would be better if I park the vehicle so you can talk to him."

 

Easing out of the driver’s seat, she rewarded him with a smile and handed the keys. With a murmured "thanks," she walked towards the visitor’s parking area and found Jon indolently leaning against the hood of a limousine looking taut and grim-faced. He was like a sleek panther watching his prey as his eyes raked over her from head to toe. Discreetly standing behind him were two men she surmised to be his driver and bodyguard.

 

"I’ve been trying to reach you but you never so much as answer the damn cell phone. Are you trying to test my patience, Sansa?"

 

Sansa took in his brooding face and wondered why he seemed so annoyed. Her eyes then skittered to take in the dark-suited figure and the glaring eyes. "What do you expect? I had a lot of things to do and you only gave me one week. I may be your girlfriend but I refuse to be at your beck and call," she parried icily. Sansa purposely ignored him to clear her head and mentally prepare herself for the unpalatable role of a girlfriend.

 

Swearing under his breath, he signalled his men to leave them alone and opened the limousine door. "Get in," he said. She was about to protest but his arm wrapped around her waist. He stood so close his breath fan her hair.

 

With a sigh of resignation, she went inside. The atmosphere felt too intimate in the roomy confines of the limousine with its tinted windows and seats covered in soft, buttery leather. "No more dates with other people, Sansa," he warned through clenched teeth. "The moment you signed that contract, you're mine."

 

Sansa was confused at first but then she realized that he had found out about her dinner with Daario and misinterpreted it. She didn't bother to correct him. "Oh, I’m sorry I forgot my place," she spoke with deliberate sarcasm. "It was thoughtless of me. Why don’t I just salve your ego with sex?"

 

One look into those black smoldering eyes told her she hit home. She felt the heat rise to her face and fervently wished she could take back the words.

 

In one fell swoop, he deposited her onto his lap, locking her against his hard chest as one hand looped through her hair so that she was forced to look at him before he plundered her mouth with his. A moan of protest died in her throat and her feeble attempt to push him away was no match for his strength.

 

It was a kiss meant to possess and hold her captive. Then it slowly turned sensual, coaxing her into submission as his exploring tongue slid sinuously along the seam of her lips. He deepened the kiss with expertise that had her head reeling from the seductive onslaught. His free hand slid from her back to her ass and lingered there as he pressed her closer.

 

To her horror, her body quivered with anticipation as he continued to seduce her. She was in a losing battle not to respond. What’s wrong with her? She hated him. And yet, she found herself unable to stop the raging fire coursing through her veins.

 

Her defenses finally caved in and she was kissing him back with raw, hot passion. Her hands caressed his chest and linked at his nape to drag him closer instead of pushing him away.

 

With a triumphant glint in his eyes, he slowly drew back from her clinging mouth. "Too bad we’re in a parking lot because I could have taken your offer."

 

With her face red with humiliation, Sansa struggled free from his grasp and moved to the furthest corner of the limousine. "You’re nothing but a conceited, self-absorbed control-freak."

 

"Well, that’s interesting. Your words belied your actions just a few seconds ago. Go pack your bags. We’re leaving in two hours."

 

She gasped in disbelief. "What? Aren’t we supposed to leave in two days?"

 

"Change of plans," he replied dismissively. "I see no point in delaying the inevitable and I’m a busy man with an empire to run."

 

"But I’m not ready," she objected vehemently.

 

"That’s not a problem. Just bring a few essentials. I can have someone order everything you’ll need; clothes, shoes, accessories and have those ready when we arrive at our destination."

 

He stepped out of the limousine and held the door for her. "Let’s go."

 

She refused to budge. The tension was palpable between them as they stared at each other in a battle of wills. "Are you getting out or do I have to bodily carry you all the way to the plane?" he murmured huskily while caressing her collarbone.

 

She scooted away from him and climbed out of the car grudgingly.  
　

A gleaming steel grey gulf stream jet bearing a gold Diamond Star logo sat waiting on the tarmac. Jon held her hand as they boarded the plane and within minutes, she was whisked inside and ensconced in a luxurious ivory leather seat beside him.

 

The plane took off into the inky sky and Jon had not bothered to give her a clue as to where exactly they were going. She didn’t ask either. As far as she was concerned, she could care less. She felt like a prisoner in a gilded cage.

 

* * *

 

 

Once the seatbelt sign was turned off, Jon unbuckled his seatbelt, sauntered to the desk and fired up his laptop. He completely ignored Sansa as if she’s invisible, totally immersing himself in whatever it was he’s working on.

 

Sansa was seething in her seat. Jerk. Brute. Rat. Neanderthal. She was running out of adjectives to describe the man seated across the aisle, who dragged her in the middle of the night from the comfort of her home, to catch a plane to go to God knows where. She took great pride in her independence. Not even her aunt and domineering uncle could stop her when she decided to move to London and live on her own. One unplanned affair with no thought of repercussions, and she’d become a slave to the whims and caprices of this….this…

 

A smiling flight attendant stood before her. "Hello Ms. Stark, I’m Ros at your service. Are you hungry? Is there anything I can get you?" She’s pretty with glowing red hair pinned in a French twist and smartly dressed in a gold and white uniform with a gold pin bearing the initials DSG.

 

"Hi, Ros. I had a heavy dinner and I’m still full but I’d appreciate a glass of brandy," she said. She was a bundle of nerves and needed something to calm her down.

 

"Certainly." Ros disappeared and came back with the brandy in a balloon glass. She nodded her thanks and gulped the deep amber liquid sending a fiery path from her throat and straight to her head. She lifted her glass to attract Ros’s attention and waved it to indicate she wanted another glass.

 

Ros returned with another drink. Sansa lifted the glass to her lips when it was snatched from her hand. "Hey!" she squawked.

 

"Easy on the alcohol," Jon admonished, drinking the brandy instead of giving it back to her. "At the rate you’re drinking this, you will be drunk in no time."

 

"Good, because I want to have a little fun," she sniped. "For the record, you’re an overbearing cad and I’m doing this under protest. Why can’t you just take Ygritte or those countless other women who would eagerly jump at the chance of being your girlfriend?"

 

"I don't have to answer you," he murmured. "You came from nowhere, embarked in a two-week affair with me while hiding your true identity and then disappeared into thin air with a valuable piece of jewelry that belonged to my family."

 

"You’re wrong if you think I deliberately set you up in order to steal the necklace," her lips trembled. It was an effort to hold back tears that were threatening to fall. "It never occurred to me you’re this hotshot billionaire when we met. You led me to believe you were a property manager. I learned of your true identify only after you were introduced by my uncle."

 

"Even if I believe it, the truth still remains that you stole from me, Sansa," he stated casually but there was no mistaking the accusation in his voice.

 

"Taking back what’s rightfully owned by my family is not stealing and I have the papers to prove it," she mumbled ruefully.

 

"Then why did you not come forward and present your evidence instead of stealing the necklace?"

 

"Would you have returned the necklace if I showed you proof of ownership?"

 

"No. You’d have to go to court to retrieve it because I won’t relinquish the necklace to your family based on some document that may just be fake."

 

"Exactly," she snapped. "Had I sued to get back the necklace, your expensive lawyer will drag this case. I’d probably be an old lady or worse, six feet under before the necklace is returned to my family. Right now, there’s no point in us debating over it because you lost the real one. Someone snatched it from under your nose in spite of your top of the line security system."

 

"Yes, someone did. And that someone is you, Sansa." Without warning, he pulled her onto his lap. Her hands pushed against his chest but he captured both and held it behind her back. She tried to wriggle free but her action only created friction and heat sizzled as his chest rubbed sensuously against her breasts.

 

"Now tell me, have you taken precautions?" he murmured thickly.

 

Colour blossomed in her cheeks. Drawing a tight breath, she answered, "Of course, I’ve been on the pill the moment I agreed to be your girlfriend."

 

"Good," he murmured. Unceremoniously, he dumped her on the seat, went back to the desk and once again, busied himself with work. She controlled the urge to throw something at him.

 

Feeling worn out and a little dizzy, she leaned back and closed her tired eyes. Maybe if she succumbed and sleep through the journey it would be a better alternative than having to constantly fight Jon. They’ve been at loggerheads from the moment he showed up with her uncle and it was taking a toll on her peace of mind.

 

Jon paused to study her. Her feet were tucked comfortably under her legs, and her head rested on the arm of the seat. Her dress hiked up to expose bare thighs. There was an air of fragility about her. Her hands were balled into fists on her lap ready to pounce on anyone who got near.

 

What was it about this woman that intrigued him so much? He’s always been a private person, never allowing any of his girlfriends to share his home, invade his space. Any one of them would have jumped at the prospect of living with him, but not her.

 

He rose from his seat, slipped an arm under the small of her back and hooked the other arm around her knees. Lifting her, he strode to the bedroom at the back of the plane.

 

She drifted from a deep slumber with the muted hum of the plane’s engine. As she stirred, Sansa was acutely aware of an arm draped over her and a bare leg resting on her thigh. One hand was lazily cupped around her breast. She was lying in a bed and Jon was asleep beside her with nothing on but a pair of boxer shorts. Her dress was gone leaving her only in black lace underwear.

 

Sansa’s eyes wandered around the bedroom. She knew Jon was wealthy but just didn’t have an idea until now. No expense was spared to outfit his private jet. The bed was covered with the finest beige colored Egyptian cotton, plush monogrammed pillows cradled her head. There was a mirrored headboard framed with pleated silk and another above the bed. Soft lighting emanated from cone-shaped gold sconces that flanked the headboard. Looking up she saw their reflection in the mirror intimately entwined, creating a sensual picture. The duvet slipped giving her a glimpse of broad, sculpted shoulder and a muscular arm possessively covering her.

 

Her eyes leapt to his face. Long lashes fringed the tops of his cheeks. His ruffled hair and mouth in repose made his smoulderingly handsome face vulnerable. Her nose picked up his warm scent. She was suddenly filled with a longing she couldn’t comprehend and had the urge to ran her finger along his mouth. How will she survive being with this man when there’s a constant battle between her mind that absolutely rejected his behaviour and her body that longed to snuggle against the hard wall of his chest?

 

She had to get out before he wakes up. Gingerly, she lifted his arm, slid her body slightly away from him and placed it on the mattress. A smile of triumph crossed her face. Great. He didn’t budge. Now, for the last hurdle. With great care she sat on the bed to slowly ease her leg from under his. A startled gasp escaped her lips when a strong arm fastened around her body and dumped her on her back.

 

With eyes still closed he murmured, "Where do you think you’re going?"

 

"Away from you," she hissed.

 

"Why?"

 

"Because I loathe you."

 

He responded by pulling her closer and nestling his face into the crook of her neck . "Give it up, Sansa. The sooner you admit you owe me for what you did, the better it would be for both us."

 

"How did I get in here? Did you undress me?

 

"I carried you. You’d be more comfortable sleeping here and yes, I undressed you. That dress was positively unpleasant to sleep in," he mumbled drowsily. "There’s no need for false modesty, Sans, because I’ve seen you naked before."

 

"Why can’t you understand that I don’t want to be with you?" she taunted.

 

He shifted his body ensnaring her beneath the solid wall of his chest. "Beautiful," he breathed softly as he looked down at her face, taking in red hair like silk spread across the pillow, lush, trembling lips and defiant eyes. He ran his thumb across her lips. "It’s unfortunate you played me for a fool. As for you not wanting to be with me, why don’t we put it to the test?" His mouth claimed hers with passionate hunger as his powerful torso pressed her back into the pillows.

 

In spite of their growing animosity for each other, both of them ignited in an instant with a fiery passion. Heat coursed through every cell as he ravished her mouth, biting her lower lip and sliding his tongue over the spot to soothe the pain. A moan escaped and she opened to him, his tongue sliding into her mouth to taste and explore.

 

Damn. Damn. Damn. Why does her treacherous body betray her? Clearly, her body had not received the message from her brain that she’s not supposed to succumb to his seduction. Desire welled up inside her, restraint flew out of the window, and she responded by arching against him. Jon had perfected the art of seduction, touching her in places that made her tremble with pure lust.

 

"Stop." Was that her breathless voice telling him to stop but sounded like _"Don’t stop?"_ She flattened her palms on his chest and shoved but it was like pushing a brick wall. It was a last-ditch effort to preserve some dignity in what she deemed to be her tattered pride.

 

"Stop? Did I hear you say stop?" he murmured in a slumberous voice. Her half-hearted plea told him she was teetering between desire and defiance and if memory served him right, he knew exactly how to push her button.

 

He bit the underside of breast and then slowly trailed his mouth to her breast and latched onto one of her nipples. He sucked hard and timed it by curling his finger inside her hole. She cried out in response.

 

Arrows of pure pleasure rushed straight to her pelvis. Her body throbbed from his touch making her writhed wantonly, unable to distinguish which was giving her the most pleasure, his mouth or his hand. "Jon," she moaned his name through a passion-fogged haze.

 

"Look at me, Sansa," he growled hotly.

 

Her eyes fluttered before staring into his eyes.

 

He pinned her with his mesmerizing gaze. "Tell me, do you want me to stop?"

 

"Yes...I mean...No," she gasped. "Don’t...stop," she moaned.

 

He knotted his fingers in her hair to expose her slender neck to him. "You’re a bewitching tease," he mumbled silkily, sliding his tongue and nipping along her neck, her jawline until he captured her mouth, his tongue grazed tantalizingly along her lips, then plunged inside demandingly, compelling her to respond with equal ardor. She was again pulsing with rekindled desire.

 

Sansa whimpered, unable to control the raging fire coursing through every pore of her skin. Her hands slithered around his shoulders and felt his taut muscles against her hands. She heard him expel a sharp gasp. She was hungry for more and quivering with need for him.

 

Her response almost drove him to the edge tearing him up inside with lust for her. He lurched off the bed he and yanked his underwear, all the time his eyes never wavered away from her. Her eyes were glazed with desire and she was breathing harder. "I want every inch of you," he murmured, his hot stare moving all over her body.

 

She gazed through heavy-lidded eyes to reveal the lustful expression on his face as he stared at her naked body. A sudden rush of shyness washed over her.

 

Her lips quivered, parting slightly to catch her breath. There were fiery sparks in her eyes, swimming with unbridled emotion and anticipation. The desire that roared through him was replaced by a disturbing feeling of jealousy and possessiveness as he wondered how many men had seen her naked body in the last six months. Did she take a lover after they parted?

 

"Sansa," he groaned with a heated mixture of lust and anger at the thought of another man touching her. Before he’s through with her, she’ll be screaming his name.

 

He pulled her to the corner of the bed using her legs and put them on his shoulders. He kissed and nipped down her body. Auburn curls tickled his nose and he was pleasantly surprised to know that Sansa didn't shave this time. He hummed against her core and alternated between sucking and circling her clit. He took his time worshipping her and tracing his name against her folds while his fingers kept a steady pace.

 

"Oh Gods!" the room echoed with her sultry voice as he subjected her to the sensual torture until she was mindless with want and compliant under him.

 

He rubbed her nub with his palm and suddenly, an intense curl of heat spiralled inside her, every nerve and cell in her body poised to the edge in anticipation. After the euphoria was over, her breathing turned into short, uneven gasps, and her heart hammered against her chest.

 

Jon groaned as he watched her close her eyes and scream while she orgasmed. Her arms were bent and clutching the headboard to support her trembling body. Her breasts heaved and there were bite marks over them. _His_ marks. Jon knew at that moment that he'd remember this vision when he is on his deathbed. She was glorious, and it had been a long time. He was maddeningly hungry for her. If he had his way, he’d roughly take his fill, and make her pay for all the nights she invaded his dreams and the days when images of her interrupted his thoughts.

 

But he held back and did not move, keeping a tight rein on his own lust as he watched her face suffused with her own desire, her pupils dilated, her luscious mouth parted and her hair moving like silk on the pillow.

 

"Jon," she sobbed out his name again, this time sounding more desperate.

 

"Keep saying it," he breathed and moved to nip at her neck. He spread her legs underneath him and with a growl, he thrusted in and set a furious pace. She scrambled to claw at his shoulders as he joined her repeatedly in a fiery, mind-numbing freefall to the very edge of exquisite pleasure. Her nails drew blood on his back, wanting to punish him and sate his need at the same time as he shuddered with his release.

 

* * *

 

 

"Wake up sleepyhead." Still in the mist between wakefulness and sleep, she slowly opened her eyes. The light of the sun filtered through one of the windows of the plane and she squinted to adjust to the sudden brightness that filled the room. Jon was standing at the foot of the bed with his hair still damp from taking a shower. He’s changed into a tight white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and wearing a smug smile on his lips. The shirt, instead of hiding, emphasized his perfect physique and Sansa forced herself not to stare and self-consciously realized she was still naked beneath the sheet.

 

With a start she sat on the bed, dragging the sheet to cover her body and running her finger through her tousled hair. She must be a sight for sore eyes with her hair disheveled with only a rumpled sheet hiding her nudity. The realization of what transpired between them assailed her senses making her blush with embarrassment.

 

They could not get enough of each other. Jon was insatiable. As he took her again and again, she responded with equal passion until they fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

 

Jon sat beside her, reaching out to touch a wayward tendril off her face.

 

"Why didn’t you wake me up? I probably look like a troll," she murmured shyly.

 

"You are delectable," he whispered. "What could look more beautiful to a man than his woman being totally ravished by him?" He traced a finger along her jaw to the hollow at the base her throat and moved to the edge of the sheet between her breasts. With a quick flick, he pulled the sheet off, baring her up to her waist.

 

Half smiling he mumbled, "Hug me, Sansa."

 

Sansa had to admit she was confused to hear that. She was bare with no clothing on and he wanted to " _hug"_ her? Gingerly kneeling on the bed, she crawled to his side. She hesitantly locked her arms around his shoulders but Jon had no such qualms. He buried his face in her messy hair while slowly caressing her back. His nipples rubbed against hers through his shirt, and it created a wonderful friction which made her instantly wet. Added to that was the fact that the scent of his shampoo was making her feel heady and tempting her to jump on him. She needed to put a stop to this now. It was getting out of hand and more...intimate. So when he nuzzled her neck with a small hmm, she pushed him away.

 

The expression on his face was like a douse of cold water and reacting quickly, she grabbed the sheet once more to cover herself. "You already got what you wanted."

 

He sighed and straightened his clothes while he challenged her with his gaze. "If I remember correctly, you were a willing participant and if your pleas and moans were just an act, it was an award-winning performance. Face it, Sansa, you wanted me as much as I wanted you."

 

Haughtily she shrugged her shoulders. "Fine. It was just sex anyway and it could be you or any other man," she murmured trying to convince no one other than herself.

 

The tenderness in his expression disappeared. With eyes blazing, he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. His face was almost touching hers. "Don’t forget that we have a contract. No other man for as long as you’re my girlfriend," he warned through clenched teeth. Just as quickly, he released her and she fell in a heap on the mattress. "Now, get dressed. We’re landing soon." He stomped out of the room without a backward glance.

 

Sans hurled a pillow, hitting the door. "Serves you right for being a condescending, hypocritical louse. If you think the world revolved around you….well….think again. You’re not that special…in and out of bed." Sighing, she whispered, "Who am I kidding?" She was trying to save face and the humiliation of succumbing to her primal, basic desires. Jon’s the only man who could take her without much effort, and he knew it. Fending off Jon was like stopping a wave from crashing to the shore. She regretted her weakness but unable to stop her treacherous body from surrendering to his overpowering physical magnetism.

 

Sansa caught her flushed reflection in the mirror. Her lips were slightly swollen but hardly noticeable. The hot shower eased the aches and pains in her body from their marathon sex a few hours ago. It was like they were making up for the six months they were apart. She smoothed her hands over her indigo jeans and adjusted her taupe halter top featuring a ring at the bust and held by a chain that goes around the neck and ruching throughout the bodice. She let her hair down, applying minimal makeup and a touch of lip gloss. With one last glance, she walked out to join Jon.

 

Jon waved her to sit beside him by the window. When she reached his side, he held out his hand and guided her to the seat. "How are you feeling?" he asked in a soft voice without any hint of his previous anger, "considering our….you know….in bed…. I’m sorry if I hurt you. Just couldn’t help myself."

 

Blushing furiously, she changed the direction of their conversation by asking, "Where are we going? You haven’t told me yet."

 

Pointing to the window beside her, he said, "Look out the window. We’re approaching Athens."

 

Pressing her face against the glass, she saw buildings and houses, roads and bridges dotting the landscape and beyond, she could make out blue mountains misted by wispy clouds. As the plane circled, she saw trees, brown and green patches of land and cars traversing highways.

 

"We’re staying at the penthouse suite of my hotel, the scene of your crime," his words cut in.

 

Startled, she turned her attention back to him. "Is this your way of humiliating me further, by parading me in front of your staff? You know they’ll recognize me but you want your pound of flesh, don’t you? Why don’t you carry a streamer stating, "Here’s the thief."

 

"There’s no need to be upset, Sansa. As far as they’re concerned, it was a lovers’ quarrel between us….that you took the necklace to spite me. I even talked to Theon to apologize for my anger and _confessed_ that everything was a hoax and we’ve since kissed and made up."

 

"And they believed you?" she asked, casting him a frowning glance.

 

"You became the heroine for some of the women because you had spunk and they thought our reconciliation was very romantic. Like a romance novel," he confided, his mouth stretching in a conspiratorial grin.

 

"Right," she bit back sarcastically, "only this time, the heroine was kidnapped by the evil prince so that he could imprison her in his castle."

 

His dark eyes hardened with an intimidating warning. "Well, there is another alternative, Sansa. I can just let the police arrest you, but we both don’t want that, do we?"

 

She darted a scathing look. "Look, Jon. You don’t scare me. Maybe in your world, women grovel at your feet and kiss the ground you walk on. Let me tell you that this is a walk in the park compared to…..to…never mind….forget it." With a resigned shrugged, she turned her attention back to the passing scenery outside the window as the plane dipped its wing as it circled Athens.

 

Jon caught her chin between his thumb and index finger and turned her face from the window. Did he imagine pain lurking behind those luminous blue eyes? In a split second it was replaced by a mask of defiance. "You didn’t finish your sentence. You were saying..?"

 

"Nothing," she countered, pushing his hand away then focusing back on the view outside, effectively shutting him out from further explanation.

 

Jon had the urge to wrench a reply, to ask her to define exactly what she meant by her statement but there was no time as the plane taxied down the runway.

 

"Sir," his head of security stood before them. "Just to let you know, there’s a throng of paparazzi waiting outside."

 

Sansa groaned. For someone who values her privacy, the fact that she’s being thrown into the limelight as another one of Jon’s conquests was making her cringe with shame. She might as well wear a sign _"Jon’s whore"_ across her chest. His high profile will certainly stir interest in her and she’d be subjected to public scrutiny. "I don’t want to be part of this circus, Jon," she blurted. "Can’t you just go ahead? I’ll leave the plane once the coast is clear."

 

"No," he replied quietly. "I have a well-trained security staff. This won’t be the last time we are seen together so you might as well get used to it."

 

Before she could protest further, he quickly took hold of her hand and walked her out of the plane. The flash from the cameras almost blinded Sansa the moment they emerged from the tunnel. Reporters jostling for Jon’s attention buzzed like bees around them, hurling questions like the identity of his lady friend. "Who’s your new girlfriend, Jon?" they chorused. Jon ignored the small commotion he was creating, looking straight ahead as his security escorted them quickly out of the airport.

 

Once outside, a blast of warm air hit her. It was noon when they arrived and the midday sun cast a middle-of-the-summer heat as they approached a waiting limousine.

 

Jon noticed her quiet demeanor inside the limousine. Her gaze was trained on the bustling scene as if totally entranced, giving him the feeling that her mind was somewhere else. He was gearing up to do battle with her after the recent outburst before they left the plane. It annoyed him that she was still grappling with her first encounter with the press. Whereas his ex-girlfriends basked in the glare of the cameras, loving the notoriety of being his woman, Sansa seemed to be embarrassed by it.

 

"Sansa?"

 

She did not respond.

 

He reached out and took her hand from her lap. Her head jerked towards him, eyes blinked as if she’d been caught red-handed. "What’s so captivating out there that you didn’t even hear your name?"

 

"Nothing."

 

"This is the second time you said nothing. Is this too overwhelming for you?" he pressed.

 

"Yes," she sighed.

 

"It wasn’t that bad," he readily conceded, intent on erasing the invasive reception by the media off her mind. "If you noticed, they could not go past security and we were out of the airport within minutes."

 

"I hate playing your trophy girlfriend, mistress, whatever," she shot back, still discomfited from the experience.

 

He ignored her comment and gave her an unrepentant gaze. "Better pull yourself together. Most of the hotel staff will be in the lobby to greet you. There’s going to be a small ceremony where you’ll place the fake necklace back inside the glass case."

 

"Is this some kind of a joke?" she muttered.

 

"No. You’re a good enough actress to fool Theon. This time, I want you to play the role of a loving and repentant girlfriend."

 

Theon met them at the entrance with a hesitant smile on his face, bowing slightly and clicking his heels. "Welcome back, Ms. Stark," he greeted profusely.

 

To her credit Sansa played her role to the hilt, smiling brightly, her gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. She charmed every member Jon introduced, focusing on the person speaking to her as if he or she was the most important person in the room.

 

Together, they placed the necklace in the case amidst cheers from the staff then rode the private elevator to his penthouse. The neoclassical style of the penthouse was visually stunning with terra-cota-colored walls as backdrop for the rich furnishings and art. A winding staircase led to the master’s bedroom and three guest rooms. Priceless tapestry dominated the living room and soaring floor to ceiling windows brought in the stunning view of the ocean and French double doors open to a terrace that descend to a swimming pool. Venetian chairs surrounded a refectory table.

 

Sansa’s eyes widened when a furry cushion resting on the Venetian chair purred and bounded towards her. "Lady," she shrieked.

 

* * *

 


	10. Chapter 10

"Oh I missed you," she gushed, hugging Lady against her chest. "You’ve grown into a lovely young lady." Lady nuzzled back affectionately, rubbing her head against Sansa’s neck.

 

"Traitor," Jon whispered from behind, bending over so that his chin touched Sansa's shoulder and she could feel his breath on her neck. "She abandoned us, Lady, and you’re welcoming her with open paws. Shame on you."

 

Lady ignored him and gazed adoringly at Sansa. "Don’t mind him, Lady," Sansa said, wrinkling her nose against Lady’s soft fur. "We girls should stick together." Lady barked in agreement. "Thanks," she murmured to Jon without shifting her attention away from Lady.

 

He ran a finger along Lady’s neck. "Thanks for what?"

 

"For keeping her," she acknowledged. "I’ve always thought you'd give her away."

 

He strode away while taking his jacket and tossing it on the sofa. There was a slight hesitation before he answered, taking the time to loosen his tie. "Why would I give her up?" He shrugged. "I've grown to like her. And she reminds me of someone I know."

 

Her mouth formed an "O" but no words came out. Her mind was reeling, unable to reconcile the arrogant, authoritarian rake with the thoughtful person standing before her, almost embarrassed to admit his good deed. Recovering from her initial astonishment she conceded, "Thank you."

 

He sauntered over to where she stood, still holding Lady. "Beneath that reluctant _"thank you"_ , you like me, don’t you?"

 

She flushed. "Don’t give too much meaning where none was intended," she answered demurely. "I really appreciate what you did," she continued as she paced the room, taking in the opulent surroundings. "Lady was the best surprise you sprang on me."

 

Undeterred by her prickly behavior, he seized her hand. "Come, I’ll give you a tour of my place."

 

Occupying the top two floors of the hotel, it was a veritable showplace with gilt paneling, rosettes and columns. The reception area was divided into four salons distinguished by an antique carpet. Gilt embossed leather of blues and pale yellow enveloped the dining room and also featured a rare 17th century needlework. The library presented a symphony of bold splashes of rose, light and dark pinks, including an eclectic mix of couches, a burgundy velvet sofa and tortoiseshell-topped table.

 

Upstairs, the master suite was a decadent and seductive boudoir. Resplendent mocha-colored taffeta swagged the king-size bed and hung from the floor to ceiling windows. Vintage wallpaper with a floral pattern on beige background covered the walls. A pair of carved 18th century folding stool upholstered in light pink and ivory silk stood at the foot of the bed. Occupying one corner was a writing desk of dark blue veneer, edged and engraved with gilt bronze and a French medallion back occasional chair of woven blue and cream silk.

 

Clasping her waist from behind, he whispered, "This is going to be our bedroom."

 

Visions of women draped around Jon jumped like a bad rerun in her mind. And there were several judging from all the photos she saw on the internet. One vivid picture was of Jon with his then girlfriend Ygritte taken by the paparazzi. She was sitting on his lap in a crowded nightclub, her arms wrapped around his neck, his hand splayed on her exposed thigh and she was giving his neck an open-mouthed kiss.

 

She tilted her head to glare at him. "How many women have you brought in here?" Sansa wanted to kick herself for sounding like a jealous shrew.

 

"None," he replied huskily.

 

With his arm firmly planted around her waist, he steered her to the adjoining room. It had been converted into an office complete with a computer sitting on a Maggiolini writing desk exquisitely inlaid with walnut ebony and antique brass finish. Across the desk was a sitting area with two armchairs of silk brocade and a bright yellow sofa arranged around a glass-topped coffee table.

 

"And this is your office," he proudly stated.

 

Still knocked over by his revelation that she’s the first woman he’d ever allowed inside his bedroom, she dazedly scanned her new office. Great! She was determined to hate this impossible guy and then he goes all out nice on her.

 

Gently, she set Lady on the rug, walked over the desk and touched the computer keyboard. She was at a loss for words, unsure of the type of reaction Jon was expecting from her.

 

"This is quite a magnanimous gesture," she said softly, "but then again, why do I feel like I’m in prison?"

 

"Believe me, Sansa, you don’t want to see the inside of a prison."

 

"Just so you know, I intend to look for that necklace and the first item on my agenda is to check all your security tapes," she muttered stiffly.

 

A glint of mockery crossed his face. "I have more than 10 hotels scattered all over the world. Do you have any idea how long it will take?"

 

He just threw her a gauntlet, and she’s up for the challenge. This was her area of expertise….finding lost treasures. Her dogged determination had been her strength. But he doesn’t have to know that. She summoned a fake smile. "Don’t be silly. I know for a fact the necklace was only displayed once a year, on the anniversary of one of your hotels or resorts. I’m only interested in the security tapes and a list of all your staff during the times the necklace was showcased to the public. Whoever took the necklace must be in cahoots with one of your people. Don't undermine my intelligence."

 

"Did you seduce Theon? Did he spend a night in your bed in exchange for showing you the necklace? Was that how you were able to gain access?" He scowled.

 

Her smile did not falter. "Well, I didn’t have to go that far. Dinner, a sexy mini dress showing thighs and cleavage did the trick."

 

The challenge in her voice seeped through his blood, and his body stirred with awareness. She was goading him and he almost succumbed to his baser instincts. Imagining Theon’s face lustily staring at her body made him want to go down the lobby and beat the crap out of that fool. "You’re a dangerous woman Sansa. I should have never underestimated you. Fine. I’ll have those security tapes and a list of my staff sent to you. In return, I expect you to give me a detailed progress report. Am I making myself clear?"

 

"Yes, crystal." _When pigs fly_ , she muttered in her head. Once she recovered the necklace, she had every intention of keeping it.

 

* * *

 

  
Over the next two weeks, she hardly saw Jon. Gone was the man of leisure with whom she spent two blissful weeks at his private hideaway. In his place was a workaholic who followed a backbreaking schedule that went on till the wee hours of the night. Most of the time, she’d already be asleep when he entered their bedroom.

 

In the morning, they’d have breakfast at the terrace and when he’s not too busy, he’d come up and join her for lunch. Sometimes they’d meet in one of the hotel’s restaurants.

 

She figured the novelty of being his girlfriend must have worn off because Jon hardly touched her. He’d give her a peck on the cheek or the top of her head before he left in the morning and the odd times he came home for dinner.

 

Except late one night. When her recurring nightmare came back. She entered a darkened room with only a solitary lamp like those used for interrogating prisoners. Beneath the light, Robb was slumped on the floor crying. Sensing her presence, he lifted his tear-stained face and stretched an arm, trying to reach out to her. Sansa moved forward to comfort him when a shadow appeared from the corner of the room. It was her foster father, Roose Bolton, and his face red and contorted with rage, holding a black leather belt and moving menacingly towards her. Panic-stricken, she fled the room with him in close pursuit behind her. Her feet felt like lead and it was an effort to get away from him. She could almost feel the heat of his breath against her back until his large hand clutched her wrist and she let out a scream. "Dad don’t hurt me…..please don’t hurt…please…please…"

 

She was enveloped in a pair of strong arms while she screamed, clawing and twisting with terror. "Sansa…Sansa….wake up….it’s just a dream….I’m here." It was Jon’s voice whispering in her ear. "Sh…..sh….nothing to be afraid of…I’m here."

 

He held her tightly, rocking her gently as his hand smoothed her hair and rubbed her back to soothe away the nightmare. With a sob of relief, she buried her face in his chest, inhaling the comforting warmth of his body. The steady thrum of his heart against her ear somehow eased the tension and gradually, her breathing steadied and she stopped trembling.

 

"What was the terrible dream that terrified you?" he asked softly.

 

She shook her head and wrapped her arms firmly around his neck. "Just hold me," she murmured. After a moment of hesitation, she pushed herself up and started kissing him like her life depended on it. "Fuck me, Jon." She didn’t want to answer his question.

 

With a strangled groan, he tumbled her on the mattress. He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. "Do whatever you want to do with me. YOU are in control now, Sansa," he husked out.

 

Sansa kissed him torridly, so very grateful for how he didn't press her to get more details but instead, sensed her need to dominate. Just coming back after that dream, Sansa was furious, anxious, horny and so very out of control.They frantically undressed, and she put her legs on either side of his waist, caging him in. She bit him, scratched him and left marks all over his body. Roughly taking his cock, she put it inside her and took him all the way to the hilt. She grinded her hips and jumped up and down on his cock, throwing her head back. Her hands tugged on his curls and clawed at every part of his body she could reach. She was louder than she had ever been, whimpering and moaning while her eyes almost became crossed.

 

Sansa was scared that she was almost too rough with Jon but when she looked down, he had a soft look in his eyes and a tender smile. He took her hand and put it on his throat, and when she looked down at him in surprise, he silently nodded. Taking that as a cue, she was more forceful with him, pouring out all her anger and regret for not standing up for herself in the past when she should've and for begging Roose to let her be a good daughter to him when he subjected her to physical abuse almost every other day. It felt wonderful and so very freeing.

 

There was no gentleness to how she treated him that night. It was frenzied, wanton, and almost desperate in the way she ravished him until they rode the crest of their earth-shattering completion. When she collapsed on top of him and Jon hugged her to his chest tightly, she wanted to cry because of how safe she felt. He didn't even speak but he managed to wash out all her fear and anger. He can never understand how much this means to her. They were naked and squeezed so close together that not even a little space was left between them, and Sansa's last thought before sleep claimed her was that she'd never been so vulnerable with anyone, emotionally or physically, and still managed to feel safe.

 

* * *

 

Even though Jon provided her with her own car and driver, he appointed a tall and beefy ox of a man as a bodyguard. She hadn’t ventured on her own, staying mostly in the penthouse and going through the security tapes provided by the hotel’s head of security. She spent her leisure swimming or taking brisk walks around the hotel.

 

Sansa also discovered how close Jon was to Lady. And Lady adored him.

 

Lady had her own niche in the library and in the sitting room adjoining the guest room that had been converted into her office. But she won’t go to either one of these until Jon came home. Every night, Lady waited for him near the front door. According to one of the housekeeping staff, Jon placed a dog bed at the foyer so Lady could lie down while waiting for him. The moment Jon walked in, Lady would jump into his arms and they’d spend the next five minutes bonding. Jon stroked her soft fur, whispered words in her ear and Lady answered with a contented bark. Sometimes he’d take Lady along in his travels and she’d stay in the plane while he attended to his vast business empire.

 

Jon heard the drone of voices buzzing in his ears. He was in the middle of the meeting but his mind was occupied by thoughts of Sansa. Ever since the night she woke up screaming and trembling like a wounded bird, he couldn’t expunge the look of terror in her eyes. It was no ordinary dream, that he was sure of. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was hiding given the fact she ignored him when he questioned her. Someday he wanted her to share her troubles with him, and just get it all out.

 

She was an alluring siren, casting her spell over him, seducing him in a frantic attempt to chase away the demons that terrorized her in her sleep. That night the restraint he held in check since they arrived in Athens fell by the wayside and he could not keep his hands off her. With Sansa, he was entering a door he’d closed and would not dare to open again. He had to quell the unsettling feelings he was having and discipline himself not to get too attached to her. No, Jon Targaryen did not do emotions or anything akin to it like commitment and permanence. No woman can change that. Not even Sansa.

 

But that night, there was pain and vulnerability he saw in her that unhinged him. It gnawed in his gut. He'd never placed that kind of a sexual trust on anyone before Sansa. He had wanted her to have control and to just hold her, protect her from whatever it was that’s causing the agony. 

 

"And so gentlemen, in conclusion….." the grating voice of the architect showing off his latest design for another planned resort roused Jon from his introspection. Pushing back his chair he stood up, "Please carry on, something came up." He left the conference room, headed to his office and called Sansa.

 

Sansa absent-mindedly picked up her cell phone while her attention was engrossed in the video footage on her computer. "Hello."

 

"Could you possibly tear yourself off your computer screen and spend a few hours with me?" Jon drawled.

 

"Why?"

 

"I’ve been so busy lately that we haven’t had the opportunity to go out since our arrival in Athens. I want to make it up to you. How about dinner and dancing? I’d like to bring you to one of my favorite restaurants and then we’ll go Le Club Distillery where we first met."

 

For some reason, her heart leaped with excitement. She'd hate to admit that she missed his company. "And I thought you brought me here to be part of the house decoration."

 

His light laugh was so sexy, a tingling sensation coiled in her stomach. "You missed me," he murmured.

 

"In your dreams," she snorted, stifling the eagerness in her voice. "What time do you want me to be ready?"

 

"Around 7:30. I’ll be up for a quick shower and change of clothes."

 

Sansa passed the remainder of the day preparing for her date with Jon.

 

She went to the hotel’s spa for a massage, manicure and pedicure. Now what to wear, she mumbled to herself as she tried one outfit after another, going through the clothes Jon ordered through the manager of the hotel’s boutique and then delivered before they even landed in Athens.

 

She settled for a flesh-coloured sheer silk chiffon top. Close neck, it skimmed her figure and slightly flared from just below the waist to the uneven hemline below her hip. There were flower lace appliques in shades of dove grey and pale lilac on the shoulders and double ruffles at the wrist as well as the bustline all the way to the hem. Feminine and yet sexy, it showed skin peeking through the material not covered by the lace. To match her top, she wore a dove grey fringed miniskirt and leather and rope gladiator sandals.

 

After one last glance at her reflection in the full-length mirror, she let out a heavy sigh and stepped back into the bedroom.

 

Jon stilled from pacing the bedroom. Whatever Sansa’s done to herself, the outcome was sensational. She was beautiful and sexy. His eyes raked every delicious inch of her. Her dewy skin was flushed and flawless. She wore just a hint of makeup that emphasized her incredible blue eyes and the pale pink sheen of her lips accentuated the luscious curve of her mouth.

 

"Come here," he said huskily.

 

As she approached him, Sansa marvelled at how gorgeous he looked. His sleeves were folded up to his elbow giving his outfit a casual yet elegant flair.

 

When she was within touching distance, he suddenly brushed his hand over one full breast. "You’re not wearing a bra," he muttered.

 

Mortified by her treacherous response to his touch, she slapped his hand. "You bought this outfit, so don’t blame me if I look like a tart."

 

Contrary to what she said, she managed to look femininely seductive. Her face exuded innocence and no matter what she wore, she’ll never look cheap. Staring down at her angelic face he whispered, "You’re stunning and very sexy, a walking temptation." He removed the clip from her hair so that it cascaded down her shoulders. "Much better."

 

The restaurant’s manager reserved an intimate corner in an open-air stone courtyard beneath a canopy of twinkling stars. Surrounded by tall plants, they were cocooned in a romantic ambiance and protected from prying eyes. Sansa thoroughly enjoyed the traditional French cuisine consisting of foie gras and filet of lamb.

 

"That was a delicious dinner, thanks for bringing me here," Sansa said as she raised a cup of coffee to her lips and took a sip.

 

Leaning back in his chair Jon gazed at her intently, the candles illuminating the beauty of her face. "You never got around to answering my question regarding your dream."

 

She shrugged. "It’s nothing really. I’m not the only one with bad dreams. You must have had your share too."

 

Like a scent, he detected her discomfiture, and so he didn't press her further. But he knew that there was something more to Sansa than meets the eye.

 

In the back of the limousine, she crossed her legs, feeling the soft leather under her bare thigh. She almost smiled when she noticed Jon’s shimmering gaze on her thighs, exposed by the ridiculously short skirt. He may have acted cold and indifferent to her in the past few days, but one thing’s sure, he wanted her.

 

Jon let out a curse when flashes of light greeted their arrival at the club. "Paparazzi." One of his security men opened the door to prevent the photographers from getting too close. Emerging from the limo, he wrapped his arm around her as they were ushered inside the club amidst yelling of questions from reporters and the explosion of flashbulbs.

 

Inside, the club was in full swing and crowded by the expensively clad, ultra rich and beautiful people. They were led up a flight of stairs to the special VIP lounge where only a privileged few were allowed. Sumptuous burgundy leather chairs and couches were arranged in a semicircle so clients can enjoy the view of the band and the dancing crowd below.

 

A voice pierced through the din of the pulsating beat of the music. "Jon, over here." Standing up, he met them with a wide grin on his face. He had long, parted-in-the-middle hair that touched his shoulders and boyishly handsome.

 

"Man, your place rocks," he said as they shook hands and hugged each other.

 

"Thanks, Edd. It’s been a while," Jon replied.

 

Edd patted him on the back. "I missed you, man. Seems it’s hard nowadays to hang out with Mr. Billionaire. Always busy making money." Noticing Sansa he asked, "And who is this lovely lady?"

 

Jon’s arm circled her waist. "Sansa, this here is my buddy and former schoolmate, Edd Tollett."

 

"At your service." Smiling flirtatiously, Edd airily clasped and kissed her hands. Then, turning his attention to the only group occupying the lounge he motioned with a wave of his hand. "Hey sweetheart, come here." A statuesque, blonde beauty moved forward, sashaying like she was walking the runway. Her heart-shaped face, expressive eyes enhanced by smoky eyeshadow and pouty, crimson lips showed perfection. She had a model’s body which was encased in a black silk skirt barely covering her bottom and a tiny top that exposed an inviting expanse of tantalizing midriff.

 

"Sweetie, I want you to meet Jon and Sansa. Guys, this is Val."

 

"Hello, pleased to you," she said in a throaty voice, hardly glancing at Sansa, her attention now fully focused on Jon. "Edd, you failed to mention you have a handsome friend."

 

Jon acknowledged her with a nod, "Hi Val, welcome to my club."

 

Sansa plastered a smile and murmured, "Hello."

 

"What do you mean handsome, he’s one ugly SOB," Edd jokingly retorted, winking at Sansa.

 

They finally joined the group and Jon introduced her to his friends, Willas, a Greek architect and his blond girlfriend Myrcella. Then there was Sam, a venture capitalist and another friend and former classmate accompanied by his pregnant wife.

 

Sansa felt like fish out of water. She’s not exactly a social butterfly and she was painfully aware that his friends knew that she was Jon’s latest girlfriend. That placed her just a cut above a call girl or prostitute. Burning with humiliation, she grabbed Jon’s arm and hissed in his ear. "Why did you not tell me you were meeting friends?"

 

"Robin, Daario and Jeyne are not your life, Sansa. I wanted you to get out, loosen up and have fun," he replied back.

 

She glared at him angrily. "Well, I don’t want to be paraded and put on display as your latest slut."

 

Grey eyes clashed with her blue icy ones, and his fingers threaded through hers and pulled her to her feet. "Let's dance."

 

As they wound their way to the dance floor, people eyed them with interest, adding to Sansa’s flagging spirit. Jon’s earlier comment slashed through her like a knife. She should have been immune to this type of emotion but to her consternation, Jon hurt her.

 

Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and gave in, swaying her body to the hypnotic rhythm of the music as it pulsed and pounded around her. She gyrated her hips and lifted her arms, her hair swirling as she turned her head from side to side. Damn Jon…..she was going to enjoy herself. She danced to every song, allowing the music to wash over her, breathing in and out to expel the tension, much the same as when she did her yoga exercises.

 

Finally, the music stopped and Jon dragged her against him in a gesture of ownership. She pushed him away. "I’m going to the ladies room," she muttered disdainfully. Without waiting for his reply she turned her back and headed for the restroom. She was still smarting from his obnoxious behavior.

 

Jon grimaced with annoyance. What the hell. She’s the most exasperating woman he’d ever met and she’s ruining their supposed-to-be enjoyable evening. At the snap of his fingers, he can have any woman in this room but not her. She’s embarrassed to be seen with him.

 

Sansa took the time to freshen up and calm her nerves before facing Jon’s friends. Her relationship with Jon was not unique in the sense that they’re no more different than most couples out there. If it hadn’t been for the contract she signed, she probably wouldn’t have reacted the way she did on seeing his friends. She wished she’s with Just Jack instead of Jon Targaryen.

 

She returned to their table only to find Jon in a cozy huddle with Val while the rest of the group were talking among themselves. Val’s arm was slung over his shoulder while another curled possessively over his forearm. Her red mouth was almost touching his ear and but he didn't seem to acknowledge it as he ate with rapt attention.

 

Light-headed, she fixed her gaze on the dance floor and watched the live band and the dancing. She remembered Apokreas and the night she was here dancing with strangers, dressed as Alayne Stone. Everyone on the dance floor was filled with excitement, happily greeting her like an old friend.

 

Without giving notice, she stood up and went down to the dance floor and started dancing, moving with ease among the dancers, shaking and swaying her hips while her hair whipped across her face. Yeah, this is fun.

 

Several minutes passed and a handsome man with brown hair and blue eyes joined her, mirroring her movement. She could almost swear he had an evil glint in his eyes that reminded her of Roose Bolton, but when he smiled at her, she smiled back as they followed the beat of the music. She gyrated and at the same time lifted her arms, as once again she was in her yoga mode, flowing with the pulsing sound until strong fingers gripped her waist. She almost lost her balance if not for the solid wall on her back. Glancing up, her eyes clashed with grey eyes brimming with fury. Keeping her tightly against him, Jon spoke in Greek to the man she was dancing with. His voice was low but there was no denying the lethal implications of his words. Her impromptu dance partner promptly apologized with a cold stare and was then swallowed by the crowd.

 

Fuming, she pulled away from him and mumbled, "I’m leaving." Grabbing her purse and murmuring her apologies to his friends, she marched out of the club.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PREVIEW FOR CHAPTER 11:**
> 
> "Why am I surprised? All men are just like….like….."
> 
> There was a long pause. A car stopped by the side of the road and the limo swerved and parked behind it. 
> 
> Neither of them moved. They could see the light of car in front flashing. 
> 
> "All men are just like what Sansa?....Like your foster father?"
> 
> With a strangled sob, Sansa opened the car door, leapt out and started running. In a second she was drenched, and her clothes were plastered against her like a second skin. Her sandals felt heavy but she didn’t care. She just wanted to get away. Her tears mixed with the rain, and all she saw ahead of her were just blurred images. 
> 
> "Sansa!" She heard Jon calling out to her but she continued on, not caring where she was going.


	11. Chapter 11

The moment Sansa stepped out of the door, she immediately realized her mistake. Like firecrackers, she heard the clicks of cameras, and the pulsing flashes of light blinded her like a deer caught in a car’s headlights. She forgot about the paparazzi. Trapped with nowhere to go, the air suddenly became suffocating as the throng closed in on her.

 

In a split second, strong arms enfolded her from behind and the hordes of reporters were being pushed back by security. She heard Jon speaking in Greek again, and he seemed to be giving instructions. The limousine appeared, and Jon half-carried her inside.

 

As the limousine pulled away, the sky opened up and big, fat drops of rain fell on the city. It pounded on the street pavement, on the pedestrians who scampered for cover and on the rooftops of buildings and cars.

 

In the relative safety of the limo, Jon turned to her. She was breathing hard and visibly shaken from the experience. "What were you thinking?"

 

"You’re a bastard, that’s what I’m thinking," she spat out. "I don’t understand why you had to drag me along if you’d rather be with another woman."

 

  
"If by another woman you mean Val, I can’t very well push her away in front of the others and embarrass her. If you looked closely, you would’ve seen that I wasn’t even touching her. Is that what this is all about? You’re jealous of Val? Is that why you were grinding against that loser….to get back at me?"

 

Why are they having this conversation? He was never the jealous type. He had one rule and that was, the relationship should be mutually exclusive until one party decided it was time to move on. He couldn't be bothered if other men looked at them.

 

But the sight of that jerk lasciviously staring at Sansa’s body enraged him. Good thing he didn’t put up a fight or he would have to be peeled off the floor once he’s done with him.

 

She glared at him with distaste. "I’m not jealous of Val but I don’t want to be ignored by my date either. And if you didn't want to embarrass her, what about me? My feelings? You know what, why am I even surprised? All men are just like ….like…..."

 

There was a long pause. A car stopped by the side of the road and the limo swerved and parked behind it.

 

Neither of them moved. They could see the light of car in front flashing.

 

"Like what Sansa…..like your foster father?"

 

With a strangled sob Sansa opened the car door, leapt out and started running. In a second she was drenched, and her clothes plastered were against her like a second skin. Her sandals felt heavy but she didn’t care. She just wanted to get away. Her tears mixed with the rain, and all she saw ahead of her were blurred images.

 

"Sansa!" She heard Jon calling out to her but she continued on, not caring where she was going. She was about to cross the street when she was turned around and Jon hauled her against him. She struggled. Using her fist, she pummelled his chest. "Why can’t you just leave me alone?" She was now sobbing hysterically, her chest rising and falling in an effort to breath.

 

Jon felt as if a knife was lodged in his chest. He pressed her hard against him. "I’m sorry….I’m sorry…please don’t cry….shhh…don’t cry….," he mumbled hoarsely. She was like a baby, crying with big, gulping sobs wracked with pain, and he was helpless. There, in the corner of the street, he held her until she stopped weeping.

 

Once it all out of the system, she was limp as a ragdoll. Jon scooped her in his arms and carried her to his black Ferrari. The driver was waiting and opened the door as soon as he saw them. Gently, he placed her on the seat. He took off his vest and slipped it on her. Wet, her top had turned transparent, and she might as well be naked. He fastened her seatbelt, and then he walked around to the driver side. Before getting in, he looked at the driver. "I’ll call you."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Instead of the hotel, Jon drove to his place of sanctuary, away from the swarms of paparazzi. How ironical that they’d end up where they first started. They were also running at that time and he brought her to his loft.

 

He carried her through the master’s bedroom and into the bathroom. She was quiet during the drive and didn’t resist when he picked her up in his arms. He set her back on her feet and turned on the shower. "We have to get off these wet clothes before we catch pneumonia," he suggested quietly. She nodded in response.

 

With trembling fingers he began to undress her, removing the vest he put on earlier and sliding it off her shoulders. The sight of her red teats peeking through the wet top almost made him groan with desire. He reached behind her neck to tackle the tiny buttons.

 

Following his lead, her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirts, slowly undoing one, and then another, and then another.

 

He pulled her top over her head and she divested him of his shirt.

 

His fingers found the zipper of her skirt and slid it down. With one tug, it slithered to the floor and pooled around her ankles, followed by her white lace panties.

 

She reached for his belt, unbuckled it, unzipped his pants and undressed him.

 

After adjusting the water temperature, he led her to the shower. They stood for a moment and just let the soothing water trickle down their bodies.

 

Pouring shampoo on his palm, he rubbed his hands and then spread it around her head in massaging motion. She did the same, her fingers working the lather in his hair. After rinsing their hair, he proceeded to bathe her and she did the same to him.

 

They dried each other off with soft, fluffy towels and put on white towelling bathrobes.

 

Back in the bedroom, Jon sat on the couch and pulled her onto his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. They remained that way for a few minutes, and the silence so palpable they could almost hear the beating of their hearts.

 

Taking her hand, Jon rubbed it against his cheek. "That night, when you screamed, you were begging your father not to hurt you. Your face was glazed with terror and there was so much pain in your voice."

 

She sighed softly. "It’s not a pretty story. Me and Robb were sent to a foster home because my aunt considered us as ' _unwanted baggage_ '. My foster father was prone to volatile rages. He’s someone who verbally and physically abused us."

 

Jon expelled a breath. An image of a frightened little girl flashed in his mind. "Tell me, what did he do to you?"

 

Sansa shuddered. She could almost feel the pain cutting through her flesh. "Belt. He’d hit me with the belt he used on my brother when I try to protect him from his beatings. But Robb had it worse than me. He always got blamed for the wrongdoings of my foster father's birth son. Since his son is ' _precious_ ' my foster father would take it all out on Robb. It was a vicious cycle."

 

"Did you tell your aunt about it?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Didn't she help you?"

 

Sansa shook her head. Her aunt knew that if word gets out, she and Robb might be asked to live with her. So she said it was a normal way of parenting. Growing up was one big lie. To the outside world, the Boltons were a perfect family, a successful businessman with the ideal wife, a good son who attended boarding school and two diligent foster children. Abuse was their family’s dirty little secret.

 

Sansa inclined her head so she could see his profile. His jaw was clenched. She lifted her hand to his face and tilted his head so that he’d look at her. "Please, no more questions. I’m tired."

 

He pressed the palm of her hand to his mouth and squeezed her tightly against him. "Okay, no more questions," he whispered huskily.

 

She fell asleep cradled in his arms.

 

When Sansa woke up, she watched Jon sprawled on the enormous bed. Asleep, he was beautiful. His tousled hair fell across his brow and his sensual mouth was slightly parted. Sunlight streaked in through the French doors, lovingly illuminating his face. Smiling, she tightened the belt of her bathrobe and padded barefoot downstairs to the kitchen.

 

 

* * *

 

Jon clutched the balcony railing until his knuckles turned white. From the distance, the Acropolis stood majestically against the backdrop of the clear, blue sky. He stared at it with unseeing eyes. Sansa’s unexpected confession the previous night was a total shock to his system. He could still see her ashen face and feel her trembling body as she described the terrible truth about her life. And no matter how much he convinced himself that what happened to her had nothing to do with him, the truth of the matter was that he cared.

 

Sansa, on the other hand, felt alive, like coming out of dark tunnel into the sunshine. The weight of carrying her past around was suddenly lifted off her shoulders. This was what experts refer to as one’s "aha moment" when one realizes that there’s no such thing as a perfect existence. That one’s life should not be ruled by the past but the present and the future can hold many wonderful possibilities.

 

Jon was the key that freed her from the shackles of her past. He was able to penetrate her defences and after years of keeping all the hurts and pain bottled up inside, she was finally able to let go.

 

Humming to herself, she opened the refrigerator and peered inside for something she can whip up for breakfast.

 

Emerging from the bathroom, Jon stopped and stared. She was standing in the middle of the room holding a tray with a smile as bright as the sunshine spilling inside and resting on her head like a halo. He was mesmerized.

 

"Good morning, sir, I brought you breakfast," she chirped, motioning him with her head to go back to bed so she can place the tray in front of him.

 

He rewarded her with an infectious grin. "I just died and went to heaven." Obediently, he sat on the bed and watched her place the tray between them. "This is very nice," he said. He gazed momentarily at the feast she prepared consisting of toast, bacon, scrambled eggs, orange juice, coffee and a couple of fruit cups. Then, he lifted the tray and set it on the side of the bed. Grabbing the lapels of her bathrobe, he pulled her on top of him and buried his head in her hair. "I’d rather have you for breakfast," he murmured, sliding his hand inside her robe to cup her breast.

 

Heat spread through her like wildfire. "Jon stop," she protested while trying unsuccessfully to pull away. "I just spent the morning preparing breakfast, and I’m hungry. She finally disentangled herself from him but not before he gave her a long, lingering kiss.

 

Taking a bite of her toast, she said, "I was surprised to learn you own Le Club Distillery."

 

"Actually, I own the whole building and the surrounding ones as well."

 

"Including this building where we’re at?"

 

"Yes."

 

A knowing smile spread across her face. "You were good. I was convinced you were the property manager."

 

"What brought you to the area that night?" he asked.

 

"My hotel wasn’t that far from the club. It was my last stop from a day of celebrating the Apokreas. That was also the day I decided to celebrate my brother’s life instead of his death. I wanted to be free and a different person that night."

 

"Like Alayne Stone?"

 

"Yes."

 

His expression turned solemn. "Was he the reason you stole the Diamond Star necklace?"

 

Sansa went very still, taken aback by his question. In a cracked voice she murmured, "I’ll recover the necklace and make Robb's dream come true. You can't stop me."

 

"Sans, can you do me a favor?" he asked gently.

 

"What favor?" She looked at him suspiciously.

 

"I’d like you to accompany me to Santorini to visit my father. Maybe he can shed some light on the history of the necklace."

 

Her eyes widened. "Does that mean you believe my story?"

 

Grinning, he put up his hands. "Whoa, not to fast. I don’t know if your brother’s story is true, but I believe you were telling the truth about the promise you made to him."

 

Sansa’s eyes lit up and she threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you. You made me so happy."

 

Her lips were only a breath away from his. "Really? What do I get as my reward?" he murmured, wrapping his arms around her.

 

"What do you have in mind?" she whispered in his ear.

 

He slipped his fingers through her silky hair and tilted her face to his. "Why don’t you take off your robe and sit on my face? I would like to have my breakfast now."

 

Her lips curved as she gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Untying her robe, she let it slide off her shoulders. Then, pushing Jon on his back, she showed him the extent of her appreciation.  
　

 

* * *

 

 

The view of Santorini from the helicopter was breathtaking. White buildings and houses dotted the edge of cliffs like meringues, roads like ribbons criss-cross down the hill while cruise ships, yachts and sailboats glide the azure-blue waters of the Aegean sea. Jon pointed out landmarks as the helicopter circled the island, heading towards a hilltop villa with terracotta tiled roof. As the helicopter approached the villa, Sansa could not contain her excitement. She wanted to know more about the necklace from Jon’s father.

 

Jon was surprised to see his father standing by the landing pad.

 

Taking Sansa’s hand, he led her towards his waiting father and hugged him.

 

Smiling, Rhaegar gazed at his son. "I feel good every time you remember to visit your father."

 

Resting his hand on her back, Jon urged Sansa forward. "Dad, I want you to meet Sansa."

 

Rhaegar noted that she was pretty, but different from the other women Jon dated. She had minimal makeup on, and she was a natural beauty with peaches and cream skin. There’s something vaguely familiar about her, as if he’d seen her before. Clasping her hand he said, "Welcome to my home, my dear. How was your journey from Athens?"

 

Sansa smiled. "Wonderful, thank you for asking. The view of Santorini from the helicopter was just unbelievable."

 

Placing her hand on his arm he said, "Come, walk with me."

 

The villa’s exterior was the colour of sandstone. Travertine flooring in Versailles pattern runs from the entry courtyard through a garden patio leading to the main entrance. "You have a beautiful home, Mr. Targaryen."

 

He patted her hand resting on his arm. "Don’t be too formal. You can call me Rhaegar."

 

"And you can call me Sansa." That broke the ice, and they both laughed like old friends.

 

  
Lunch was served at the poolside terrace with balustrades and copper brass awning. It provided a vantage point for admiring the view of the infinity swimming pool with its sensational waterfall.

 

Rhaegar smiled. The way his son stared at Sansa, he could tell that she’s someone special. Turning his attention to his son, he said, "So Jon, you mentioned on the phone you wanted to discuss something."

 

Jon glanced briefly at Sansa. "Yes, dad. Can you tell me how the Diamond Star necklace came into our family’s possession?"

 

Rhaegar narrowed his eyes. "Why are you asking?"

 

"Sansa is claiming the necklace belonged to her mother." He angled his head towards her. "Why don’t you tell him your brother’s story?"

 

Sansa recounted everything her brother told her. She took an envelope from her purse and handed it to Rhaegar.

 

Inside the envelope was a piece of paper yellowed with age. It was a receipt for the necklace. Rhaegar grew silent as he stared at the receipt. Then he gazed intently at Sansa.

 

"Now I know where I’ve seen your face before. You are Catelyn's daughter, aren't you?" he asked softly.

 

"You must have seen my picture in the newspaper. Paparazzis have been following us around," Sansa carefully said.

 

Rhaegar stood up. "There’s something I want to show you. Wait here."

 

He came back holding a large brown envelope. Taking a seat across Sansa, he pulled a photograph and gave it to her.

 

Sansa gasped. It was a photograph of a woman wearing a traditional wedding dress. "This woman…..this woman…..," her voice trailed off.

 

"Yes, my dear," Rhaegar spoke softly, "She’s your mother."

 

Sansa felt like she could cry. She'd never seen her mother before. With her eyes still fixed on the photograph, Sansa said, "Robb told me I look like my mother but I never saw a picture of her until now."

 

Jon could hardly believe what he was hearing. He took the photograph from Sansa and looked at it. The resemblance was unmistakable. "Dad, what’s the meaning of this? Are you admitting Sansa’s claim regarding the necklace is true?"

 

Rhaegar exhaled out a breath. "Yes and No. Catelyn was heavily pregnant with Sansa when Eddard Stark died in an accident and left her alone in the house. Your mother was their neighbour at that time and she rushed over to the Stark residence when she heard wailing sounds. Turns out Catelyn had fell down trying to call for help and had been having contractions for a while. Catelyn insisted that she had no time to be taken to a hospital and begged Lyanna to help her. Lyanna helped her deliver Sansa and as a last gift, Catelyn gifted her the only valuable possession she had, the Diamond Star necklace."

 

Rhaegar paused for a minute to compose himself. Gazing at Sansa he murmured sadly, "Your mother fought tooth and nail to live for her children but she couldn't." Sighing heavity, he continued. "It was Lysa Arryn who started the rumour that Lyanna stole the necklace from your mother. She was jealous of Lyanna and bitter that the necklace didn't pass on to her after your mother died. The story your brother told you was a lie perpetrated by Lysa Arryn who urged him to steal it."

 

Sansa’s eyes brimmed with tears.

 

Jon shifted in his seat before he blurted, "Dad, the Diamond Star necklace was stolen."

 

Rhaegar’ brows furrowed and then, his face turned pale. "When? How?" he sputtered.

 

Sansa attempted to explain. "Rhaegar, I……."

 

Jon grabbed Sansa’s wrist to silence her. "I don’t know yet. It’s still under investigation. What we have right now is a fake."

 

Rhaegar closed his eyes and slumped his shoulders in a gesture of defeat. With a trembling voice he said, "By any means, find the necklace. I don’t care how much money you spend just find it. Your mother's last wish was returning it to the rightful child of Catelyn."

 

Jon walked over to his father and placed his hands on his hunched shoulders. "Yes, I will."

 

* * *

 


	12. Chapter 12

Stretched out on her stomach, Sansa languorously gazed at the waterfall spilling over the flying buttress into the swimming pool below. It was a shimmering basin of translucent turquoise, trimmed with coloured glass mosaics and tile accents of 24-carat gold. She smiled at a pair of marble sphinx guarding the entrance to the pool area.

 

In spite of the beauty around her, her mind wandered back to the conversation with Jon’s father. He was visibly shaken by the news of the stolen necklace.

 

_Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Jon spoke calmly, “Dad, you should rest.” Rhaegar nodded his head in acquiescence and together, they helped him to his room._

 

_As he lay propped with a pillow, Rhaegar patted the bed for her to sit beside him. Taking her hands, he asked, “Sansa, do you believe in destiny?”_

 

_Baffled by the question, she glanced at Jon to gauge his reaction only to see an equally puzzled expression on his face. Hesitantly she answered, “I used to. But now, I’d hate to think that my life was dictated by unknown forces beyond my control.”_

 

_“Ah, the cynicism of youth,” he spoke with a wistful timbre in his voice. “Could it also be that our actions are guided by those unknown forces?”_

 

 _As his words reverberated in her mind, she remembered a thought-provoking quote she jotted down in a notebook filled with her favorite quotations. It stated that “life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences, but rather, it’s a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan. If we are to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess a powerful faith in what the ancients used to call "_ fatum _", what we currently refer to as destiny.”_

 

Realizing that stealing the necklace opened a veritable Pandora’s box as far as her present life was concerned, Sansa groaned. “Robb, what have I got myself into?”

 

 

 

Raising his arms as if poised to take flight, Jon plunged into the pool with a superbly executed dive. Swimming beneath the surface, he felt the invigoratingly cool water against his skin.

 

His father’s revelation concerning the necklace meant Sansa can no longer argue that they stole it. Then why did he find the truth extremely unsettling? For one thing, his father’s suggestion when they were alone in his room was downright manipulative. Of course, he cleverly disguised it as “destiny.”

 

If only he could get Sansa out of his system. She’s an addicting drug he couldn’t get enough of. Accustomed to being in the driver’s seat with women who knew the score, expecting nothing from him except lots of good times and sex along the way, he’s a total wreck when it came to Sansa. The unwelcome emotions churning inside his chest made him very uncomfortable.

 

Sansa proved to be more than just a girlfriend to him. She’s beautiful, intelligent, witty, and heart-wrenchingly vulnerable. Someone who, more than ever, did not fit in his life. Love, romance, sugar and spice and everything nice wrapped in a neat package with strings attached. White picket fence, two and a half kids and a dog.

 

For two weeks he avoided Sansa by burying himself with work. Big mistake. It only fuelled his desire for her. He was constantly thinking about her.

 

He kicked to the surface and squinted off the water, letting his gaze flicker over Sansa lounging by the pool. The cinnamon colored bikini clung to her incredible curves and her smooth-as-satin skin was lusciously enhanced by a slight tan.

 

A sly grin tugged at his mouth. He swam silently towards her and hauled himself out of the pool in one lithe movement. Dripping wet, he bent over her, shaking water from his hair and planting his hands on either side of her.

 

“Hey, you’re getting me wet,” she squeaked as droplets of water fell on her bare back. From the corner of her eyes, powerful muscles rippling beneath glistening skin hovered a few inches above her. Her throat constricted and her mouth went dry. Jon was irresistible when dressed and seriously sexy when naked.

 

“What’s the point of lazing by the pool if you’re not going to get yourself wet?” he whispered dropping a light kiss on the back of her neck.

 

“I’ll swim when I’m good and ready. Do you mind, I’m trying to relax here,” she murmured half-heartedly, too conscious of the heated blaze in his eyes.

 

He stretched out right alongside her. “What’s with the attitude? What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours?”

 

She released a heavy sigh. “What happened today was surreal. Why did you stop me from telling your father that I stole the necklace?”

 

“There’s no point in telling him,” he drawled.

 

“Sooner or later he’d find out Jon. I’d rather he hears it from me.”

 

“For now, let’s not worry about it. Let’s focus on finding the necklace and then, if you still feel the need to confess at that point, then do so. Father will understand what drove you to take the necklace.”

 

Her mind flew back to her brother and she felt the stirring of emotion that always carried memories of their time together. “Robb was the constant in my life and being with him helped drive away the demons of hopelessness that would sometime take a hold of me. The return of the necklace consumed him.”

 

The depth of her feelings was apparent from her choked reply. “Hey, I understand,” Jon mumbled thickly. He hitched himself up and leaned over her, placing his arm across her back and burying his face in her hair. “You must have loved your brother very much.”

 

“Yes. Most of my happiest moments were spent with him and his wife. I wish Robb learned the truth about Lyanna before he passed away.”

 

To wrench her from dwelling further into the past Jon stood up, hoisting Sansa from the lounge. “C’mon my sweet, you’ve been brooding over this for years and it’s time to stop. We’ll do our utmost to recover the necklace.” With quick strides he carried the squealing Sansa and jumped into the pool.

 

“That was not funny,” Sansa spluttered when they surfaced, her stormy eyes peeking through wet red tendrils.

 

Jon brushed the wayward tendrils off her face. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are? You take my breath away.” One of his hands tunnelled through her hair and brought her face closer. “Kiss me, Sans.”

 

She looked into the dark hunger in his eyes and her stomach clenched at the way he was staring at her as if she was a feast for a starving man. Like someone in a hypnotic trance, her arms shot up around his neck as she brushed her lips teasingly against his and flicked her tongue to taste him. Succulent and yummy. Like hot chocolate on a winter night. She ran her tongue again, lingering a bit longer, then tantalizingly nipping his bottom lip, sucking a little to enjoy his flavor in her mouth. It never ceased to amaze her how Jon can draw out her inner wantonness and how easily she succumbed to his seduction.

 

His guttural groan vibrated in her ears and then they were devouring each other. Their tongues and teeth meshed and collided, licking and sucking in an intimate moulding of mouths. Within seconds, he was hard as a rock as blood surged to his groin. His body throbbed with intense need as he nudged her to the edge of the pool. She melted against him, her hot and moist mouth heatedly responding to his passionate exploration.

 

In a sensual haze, she whimpered against his mouth. “We should not be doing this. People might see us, especially your father.”

 

“That’s your fault,” he groaned, “you make me lose control with that tempting body. Dammit, I want you right now,” he swore, deftly untying the strings of her bikini top and cupping her breast and thumbing her nipple. He covered her gasp with his mouth, stroking and seducing her with his tongue.

 

Sansa became lost in the blistering sensations rushing through her veins, and her heart was hammering with the thrill of being in Jon’s arms. Their passion flared between them like an inferno.

 

Her fingers clutched a handful of his hair and she pressed her mouth into the crook of his neck to prevent her from screaming his name as he circled her clit.

 

After she came and shuddered with ecstasy, she sagged against him, breathless and sated. With a catch in her voice, Sansa raised her head to meet his grey eyes. “That was……”

 

“Over-the-top? Wild? Mind-blowing? Hot?” he added, cupping her face to plant a light kiss on her lips.

 

“All of the above,” she shyly mumbled. “Do you realize that I'm naked in your father’s swimming pool?”

 

“And your point is……”

 

“We better get out of here before he catches us.”

 

“He’s fast asleep in his room.”

 

“What about the other staff?”

 

“They won’t bother us. I’m a private person and they respect that.”

 

Her face coloured when she saw her bikini bobbing in the pool. With a gasp, she pushed Jon away and lunged to retrieve and hastily put them on.

 

Jon chuckled with amusement. “I’ve never met such a modest woman,” he called out to her.

 

She threw him a withering look. “Are you telling me the women you hang out with flaunt their bodies before you?”

 

“Pretty much,” he returned.

 

Her brows rose into twin arcs. “Somehow I find that remark patronizing.”

 

“You’re the exception, of course,” he corrected himself, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her towards him. “You make me jump through hoops just to get close to you.” He wanted to kick himself. Just when she was warming up to him, he had to open his big mouth.

 

She slapped his hand away and swam towards the diving board. Hauling herself out of the water she climbed the winding stone steps and walked to the edge of the springboard.

 

Jon vaulted out of the pool. “Hey, are you trying to kill yourself? Get down from there before you break your neck.” What looked like a rock formation with trickling water was actually a camouflage for a three-meter springboard and a 10-meter platform diving board. These boards were not for amateur divers.

 

As a boy, Jon was gangly and skinny. To improve his physique, his father hired a swimming coach to personally train his son. Like a duck to water, he loved every minute of it so Rhaegar commissioned a landscape artist to design and have the boards installed.

 

In response, Sansa raised her arms and let one-foot dangle off the edge of the board. “Come and get me,” she taunted moving her arms from side to side as if she’s walking a tightrope.

 

Jon’s heart was hammering in his chest. He’s had knowledgeable friends who dared to jump and sustained back injuries. “Sansa, I’m serious, please get down from there before you hurt yourself.”

 

There was a gleaming challenge in her eyes as she gazed down at him, daring him to stop her. Like watching in slow motion, she stepped a few paces back and then moved forward circling her arms above her head. Reaching the last step she propelled her body in a high bounce, shifting forward and dropping vertically into the pool with a hard splash. A perfect execution of a swan dive.

 

Jon was in awe as he watched her emerged from the pool, her face wearing a haughty expression. Snatching a towel she draped it around her body and faced him. “You see Jon, we women are not just made for the bedroom. We have other talents as well,” she said as she gave him a smug smile.

 

He watched her walking briskly without so much as a backward glance. She’s an enigma to him. There are layers in Sansa’s past he had yet to uncover and the air of mystery surrounding her made her even more irresistible to him.

 

* * *

 

Sansa felt like a modern-day Cinderella. The room assigned to them were stuff fairy tales were made of. Marble double rope columns, pedestals and lentils support a magnificent arch that stretches above the oversized king bed with luxurious silks and oversized pillows. Across the bed stood a hand-carved marble fireplace and a Roman bronze alabaster chandelier hangs from the oval dome ceiling.

 

Imported marble archway led to the master bathroom with double vanities, carved vessel sinks on golden Italian marble and a Roman bath set off by another carved marble fireplace.

 

After soaking in the scented bath, Sansa dried herself with the fluffy towel and put on a thick, white cotton bathrobe. Returning to the bedroom, she blowdried her hair. She was thinking of Petyr when Jon entered and slipped his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. “Feeling better?” he asked gruffly, nuzzling her neck.

 

“Yes,” she answered softly.

 

Their eyes met in the mirror and whatever they were debating earlier was forgotten as his eyes devoured her in a lingering sweep. “About what I said earlier, I’m sorry if I offended you.”

 

She lifted her face to him. “I must admit I also got carried away with my opinions. I don’t trust men, and I vowed to myself I’ll never allow any man to have power over me.”

 

His jaw clenched with suppressed emotion. “Your foster father and uncle did this to you, didn’t they?”

 

Sansa did not answer. She didn’t have to. The anguish was written in her eyes and the way her body trembled. He turned her around and tightly enveloped her in his arms, holding her until the warmth of his embrace soothed away the terrors that haunted her.

 

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” he whispered in a voice filled with resolve before his mouth descended on her…hard. His hands thrust into her hair to angle her face for a deeper kiss as if he was trying to erase her hurtful memories. He lightly nipped her bottom lip then sensually swept his tongue to make her forget all thoughts except him. The heady sensation of his kiss melted her like butter. She heard herself make a little sound, her mouth parting, allowing the plunder of his tongue. The kiss turned into something hot, filled with raw desire so that they were breathing heavily when Jon eventually pulled back.

 

Jon knew he lost his mind. He’s a grown man, but when it came to Sansa, he was like a bumbling adolescent who can’t keep his hands off her. Back in London when he saw her smilingly walk into the arms of Daario, he was filled with blinding jealousy that it took all his self-control not to run to them and beat Daario to a pulp. He never felt this way with his former girlfriends and was confused at that moment but now he realized that he was not prepared to let Sansa walk out of his life.

 

It was like an explosion in Sansa's head when she lifted her eyes to lock with his. The thing that she dreaded the most happened. She’d fallen in love. Hopelessly….maddingly in love with…..Jon. Where did that come from? She, who’d practically brainwashed herself from getting emotionally involved with any man suddenly found herself assailed with overwhelming emotions after a hot, passionate kiss that had her trembling like a leaf in his arms. She’s helpless to stop it any more than she can prevent an oncoming tidal wave. _Sansa, you’re totally screwed,_ she berated herself.

 

 _The heart wants, what the heart wants,_ her heart took over and refused to listen to her brain. Falling in love with Jon was dangerous. He’s domineering and arrogant and she’s independent...a free spirit. They’re like oil and water and yet he said...

 

“Sansa, let’s get married.” 

 

* * *

 


	13. Chapter 13

Sansa's foggy mind was still reeling from her newfound feeling for Jon so it took a few seconds before she answered. “What did you say?” she whispered, thinking she must have heard wrong.

 

Jon repeated. “Let’s get married.” He surprised himself with the split second decision but once it came out of his mouth, he recognized he made the right choice.

 

Shocked beyond belief, Sansa could almost imagine her eyes bulged like small saucers. “Are you crazy? Do you even know what you’re saying?”

 

“Yes, maybe I’m crazy but I suddenly realized that we’re good for each other.”

 

She should be jumping for joy because the guy she loved suddenly proposed out of the blue but she had a queasy knot in her stomach. “Really? Give me three good reasons why we should get married?”

 

 

He counted off his fingers. “One, we are alike in our thinking. We’ve both admitted we don’t want any emotional entanglements. So that eliminates us going into the marriage expecting too much from each other. Two, I’d like to have my own family someday with the right woman and you’re it. You’re strong, intelligent and you even charmed my father the first time he laid eyes on you. Three, we’re in lust with each other. I can’t look at you without thinking of tearing your clothes off and hauling you to bed.”

 

She smirked. “Gee Jon, I’ve always imagined a man proposing on bended knees with stars in his eyes, just like in the movies. You sounded like you’re reading ingredients off a cereal box. What happened to falling in love?”

 

“Love is overrated,” he announced silkily. “Look around you. How many men and women jumped into marriage because of love and ended later in divorce court?”

 

 _But I’m in love with you,_ she wanted to shout out loud. True, many a married couple parted ways, however, her perspective has changed. Somewhere along the way from cynicism to where she’s at at the moment, she reluctantly admitted to herself that she wanted the whole nine yards. Love, marriage, family. But wait, did he also expect her to... “Jon, what about my job as a secret agent?”

 

He shook his head. “Sansa, that has to stop. I can’t have you traipsing around the world on dangerous illegal missions.”

 

She looked at him as if he crawled from under a stone. “No.”

 

“No?”

 

“You’re a womanizer. Even if, as you say, we’re not in love with each other, I can’t have a husband jumping from one woman’s bed to another.”

 

“I won’t, Sansa, I promise,” he tossed back. “There’ll be no divorce. That means, we’ll do our utmost to make the marriage work. We will have children some day and they can’t be pawns in a battle for custody. No child of mine should experience the trauma of being shunted from one parent to another.”

 

“Neither is raising children in a house where their parents don’t love each other,” she argued. “Children are very smart. They’d know if they’re living in a loving family. I’m been part of a broken home, and I won’t allow my children to experience that either.”

 

“Then we just have to create a loving family, won’t we, Sansa? Between us, I don’t think it would be hard to do,” he drawled, his eyes glinting meaningfully as they wandered over her body.

 

“What happens when lust fades?”

 

Jon stood up and bent down before her. Leaning forward, he placed his hands on her legs, teasing her with his fingers by drawing soft circles behind her knees. His eyes gleamed with desire. “Do you have any idea how many times I fantasize about you? It comes to me when I’m in the middle of an important business deal, when I’m taking a shower or when I’m talking to my staff. It drives me nuts.”

 

“What are doing?” she asked as the humiliating sizzle of heat ignited all the down to her toes.

 

“Proving a point.”

 

He tugged her forward until her ass was at the edge of the seat.

 

“Stop it.”

 

“Why Sansa? Are you chicken?”

 

Sansa lost the sense of time and space as his hands skated inside the hem of her bathrobe and continued rubbing circles up her thighs. He stopped when his hand was just shy of touching her where she wanted him to. She instantly became wet, and when her arousal dripped down towards his fingers, he gathered some and massaged her inner thighs using her own wetness. She clamped her teeth on her lower lip to stifle a moan of pleasure. He was clearly toying with her, enjoying her reaction to his touch. And she could not stop him.

 

He leaned over her and kissed her mouth deeply, and she responded by fisting her hands into the fabric of his shirt. His lips moulded hers, taking possession of the inside of her mouth. Moaning softly, her arms snaked up and encircled his neck. He drew back slowly, smiling with satisfaction. “You lust for me as much as I lust for you. Admit it Sansa, this sexual chemistry between us will never go away. Now, will marry me?”

 

“No,” she said in finality with as much as pride she could muster before storming out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa walked barefoot along the private beach towards the stone staircase that led to the main level of the villa. The sand beneath her feet was warm and soft as sugar, the gleaming blue sea was still as glass and the balmy air was a mixture of aromatic smell of the sea and the surrounding flowers and trees. It's been days since Jon took her to this amazing island but she hardly thought to admire its beauty.

 

 

She’s been talking on the cell phone with Jeyne for the past five minutes. “Where exactly is Jon’s villa?” Jeyne asked.

 

“It’s in an island located in the Ionian Sea. What’s a billionaire if has no island,” she spat sarcastically. “And the rat marooned me here. Oh Jeyne, I’m so miserable and yet I want to be with him.”

 

Jeyn sighed. “Don’t want to say I told you so, but how can you fall in love with him? I warned you about Jon but you thought you can resist him, didn’t you? The guy’s a player and a naïve girl like you was no match for him.”

 

“Believe me, I’ve been analyzing my feelings for him to death and can’t come up with an answer. Right after he kissed me in his father's home, the first thing that entered my mind was _“I’m in love with this man.”_ I was totally shocked.”

 

“Then why are you refusing to marry him, Sans? You should be ecstatic that he proposed.”

 

“Because he said love was not part of the equation. I can’t marry someone who doesn’t love me. What if he finds someone else and falls in love with her? I can’t bear the thought of him leaving me for another woman.”

 

Those words rang in her mind as she reclined on the chaise lounge, her eyes sweeping her surroundings. The spacious outdoor living area was made for entertaining. A huge sofa, two couches and two settees made of rattan in varying shades of taupe with comfortable cream seats and cushions cluster around a wooden coffee table. There’s a kitchen, a bar, a barbecue and enough space for guests to mingle or sunbate in one of the chaise lounges dotting the pool area.

His villa was situated in an island carpeted by dense trees. His own private paradise. The Stark whiteness of the villa’s exterior can be gleaned from the entrance drive that curved past a garden. Inside, light streamed from the skylight at the entrance hall. White was the dominant colour from the walls to the couches, chairs and sofa with splashes of colour in a soothing palette of beige and cream.

 

The beauty of the place took her breath away. If not for her annoyance with the way Jon left her stranded, she would have loved spending time with Jon in this exquisite oasis, just the two of them.

 

Instead, she wiled away her days swimming in the pool or in the sea. The exercise toned her body and beneath her white sarong, she acquired a golden tan inspite of huge doses of sunblock. Even her auburn hair became lighter in color.

 

In between, she’d be lounging with a laptop, watching the videos that Jon’s security provided.

 

Apart from Jeyne, the only other person she talked to outside the island was Daario.

 

“Who is he to tell you not to go on missions? I want to hurt him so bad my hands are itching right now,” he rasped.

 

In a soothing tone, she said, “Please don’t. I’m in love with him Daario.”

 

She heard him exhale. “Why am I not surprised? The moment you told me you were staying with him, I knew you liked him. Does he know of your feelings?”

 

“No. And I prefer not to tell him because he doesn’t love me.”

 

He laughed. “Don’t worry. We men are kind of dense when it comes to understanding women and their emotions. What’s your plan when we find the necklace?”

 

“We break up and I go back to the UK,” she murmured resignedly. She omitted telling him Jon proposed since he’ll ask more questions, and she wasn’t keen on answering.

 

He called again two days later to inform her there may be a break in the case of the missing necklace. According to him, the necklace was probably stolen at the same time she was in Athens and that Theon, the hotel’s manager could be involved. He’s still tracing the leads.

 

“You must be hungry. I’ve prepared iced tea and seafood salad sandwiches,” Shae’s voice brought her back to the present. She’s her personal maid hired by Jon to take care of her clothes and meals.

  

Although the villa was outfitted with the latest security devices, Jon assigned ten more bodyguards for her, all of them women who looked like amazons, over six feet tall and built like wrestlers. They work in shifts to ensure her safety.

 

She smiled brightly. “Thank you. They look delicious.”

 

“Would you like to take a nap after lunch? I can draw back the bedcovers and maybe run a scented bath so you can cool down before you rest.”

 

“Yes. That would be nice.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jon stared at the ceiling. Coming home from a business dinner, he took a shower and changed into a white t-shirt and faded jeans. These past few days, he and Sansa hardly spoke to each other, each lost in their own thoughts.

 

 He’d been lying on the sofa in the living room of his penthouse with Lady resting on his stomach. “You missed her too, huh?” he whispered while stroking her fur. Lady barked as if agreeing with him. Reaching for his brandy, he took a sip and rested his head on the cushions.

 

“Do you think I’m being unfair, Lady? Asking her to make a decision to marry me? Should I have wooed Sansa before that?” He heard a faint snore and looking down, he realized Lady fell asleep on him. He smiled.

 

He was actually surprised when Sansa reacted negatively to his proposal. Maybe it was arrogance on his part because women would jump at the chance to marry him. No one ever refused him and he expected Sansa to accept enthusiastically. But of course, no emotional commitment. Love was not part of the proposal.

 

He loved his mother but that didn't stop her from leaving him alone in this world. He had respect for his father but that is how far his affection went. He had no problem keeping some distance from everyone in his life, but Sansa slipped right through his defences. Nowadays, he found himself even wondering if his attachment to her is unhealthy...she's practically a drug, slowly becoming someone he can't live without. More warning bells.

 

He’s never seen two people more in love than his parents. They were the ideal couple who lived life to the fullest and showered their love and attention on their one and only beloved son. They attended his every school play, every game, every family day.

 

He’ll never forget the day his mother died. It was his 13th birthday. They invited all his friends and classmates for a big party to celebrate his entry into the world of teen-agers. A live band was invited to play all his favorite rock music.

 

A happy day that turned into a nightmare. His mother was killed instantly when the brakes of a dump truck failed and plowed into her car. She was on her way home from picking up his birthday cake.

 

For months he kept to himself, refusing to talk to anyone except his father. Every day, after school, he’d visit his mother’s grave until one day, his father followed him to the cemetery. He sat him down and told him his time for mourning was over and he should let go.

 

Gradually, with his father’s encouragement, his life became normal again.

 

He cannot afford to lose someone he loves again. Lust, he can handle. Sex without the restraint of emotions to muddle it up. And he’s in lust with Sansa. Clearly she understood, being emotionally unavailable herself. So why was she being stubborn and refused to marry him?

 

He brought Sansa to his island to soften her up and woo her but she looked panicked and defensive as if he’d sentenced her to life imprisonment. Realizing that forcing her to make a decision would be a wrong move, he purposely stayed away from her. To give her space and time to consider his proposal. But the strange thing was...he was the one going mad without her. And the worst part was, he didn't know _why_.

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa stirred. Something soft brushed against her neck followed by a soft bark. Lashes fluttered as her eyes slowly focused to find Lady staring at her. “Hi, how did you get here?” she murmured drowsily as Lady cuddled against her.

 

“Hello darling.”

 

Sansa immediately shifted on her back. Jon was sitting beside her with a sheepish grin on his face looking extraordinarily gorgeous in white linen shirt open at the neck and rolled up to his elbows. He was holding two dozen red roses held together by red silk ribbons.

 

She bolted to a sitting position and glared at him. “Don’t you hello darling me. Why did…….” Before she could finish her sentence, Jon placed the flowers on her lap, framed her face with his hands and crushed his mouth against hers. The kiss was just bone meltingly sweet, thawing her anger like ice cream on a hot pavement. She could hardly breathe when he finally pulled away.

 

“Did you miss me?” he murmured, his eyes roving over her intensely, making her self-consciously aware that she’s wearing only a thin, white eyelet-trimmed cotton nightgowm with a plunging neckline and narrow strap.

 

“No. And you can't kiss me to obedience.”

 

His mouth moved to nibble at her earlobe. “I missed you. Even though I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

 

Her heart was thumping wildly from his kiss. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

 

“I wanted to give you time to think about us, our future. We’re good together, Sansa. Our passion for each other is more than enough to kickstart a marriage.”

 

“Don’t talk to me about us. I’m still upset with you.”

 

“I have something for you.”

 

Then bending on one knee he picked a small velvet box from the his pocket, opened the lid and presented her a very large, emerald cut pink diamond ring. “Sansa, will you marry me?”

 

Sansa drank in the sight of Jon kneeling humbly before her. His penetrating eyes were gazing at her expectantly, like a puppy asking for a treat. What could be sexier than a man on his knees? He smelled of soap, the tang of crisp lime aftershave mixed with his achingly familiar unique male scent that made her pulse race and her heart do flip-flops. Why the hell did she complicate things by falling in love with him? "Wow. I have to tell you, I’m impressed. This was quite an effort, Jon. You remembered when I told you I envisioned being proposed to on bended knees. Just like in the movies." She wasn’t supposed to sound breathless and husky either.

 

"I hope it worked because my knee’s starting to hurt. Take me out of this misery, and say yes." Cradling her left hand, he slipped the ring in place and kissed her open palm.

 

"I’ve already given you my answer, Jon," she declared calmly, snatching her hand back from his grip. "I’m only here to fulfil the contract and then go back to my life before I met you." Her own words were tearing her heart into pieces. But marrying him, knowing he didn’t love her would be more devastating.

 

She tried to take the ring off her finger but he stopped her. He flopped down on the edge of the bed and held her hands, brushing her knuckles with his thumbs. For a moment, he was silent, his eyes fixed on her fingers. His brows knitted. "This ring is yours, Sansa. I had it specially made for you, and no one else will wear it except you."

 

She tried to hold back the quiver in her voice. "Jon, didn’t you hear me? I’m not accepting your proposal."

 

He pressed a finger on her lips. For a second, his eyes brimmed with an emotion she could not fathom. "I’ll wait. I behaved like a caveman, railroading you into a commitment to marry me. My all-too-sudden proposal must have been overwhelming, but I’m willing to give you time to think about it. I won’t give up easily, Sansa. Whatever the outcome of your answer later on, I want you to have the ring and I’ll be happy if you wear it."

 

Tears threatened to spill but Sansa willed herself not to cry. She’d rather go through the pain of withdrawal now than face the aftermath of a failed marriage later on. "Okay," she mumbled softly. "This is a beautiful ring and I'll wear it while we are together." She wanted to exclaim out loud how much the ring meant to her, not for it’s value but because it came from him.

 

Jon felt elated. She’s wearing the ring….. a very good sign. Yes! He almost stood up to pumped his fist with glee. All he needed was enough time to convince her to agree to marry him. And he won’t stop until he slipped the wedding band on her finger.

 

"But, Jon, it must have cost you a fortune. Honestly, it's too much."

 

Jon shook his head. "Nothing’s too much for you, sweet girl. It gives me pleasure to see you wear it," he rasped.

 

 _I would rather have your love,_ she wanted to blurt out. Instead she could only utter "Thank you".

 

Motioning Jon to move aside so she could get out of bed she mumbled, "I better put these roses in a vase."

 

He snatched the flowers and tossed it on the side of the bed almost hitting Lady. "Sorry," he apologized at the glaring Lady who barked in protest.

 

Sansa scuttled out of the bed and curled up in the armchair by the French doors.

 

"Not so fast," he husked, pinning her against the pillow, his eyes darkening with desire.

 

For Sansa, gazing at the molten hunger of his gaze was like diving off a rugged cliff into the churning waves of the ocean. Hot color scorched her cheeks.

 

"Let's seal it with a kiss," he whispered.

 

Before she could react, he dipped down to claim her mouth in a kiss that set her body on fire. Jon not only invaded her mind but also possessed her body in the most carnal way. She moaned softly against his invading mouth, allowing him to sweep his tongue inside her parted lips, making her tingle with desire and driving her tongue to a mating response. This was what she missed while he was away, the touch and feel of his body, triggering a need to do to him what he was doing to her. She could feel the heat of his skin against her palms through the thin linen shirt.

 

"Oh Gods," he groaned, "I love the taste of your mouth, your skin, your body. And if I don’t stop right now, we’ll end up staying in bed the whole day….and night."

 

Unceremoniously, he hauled her shrieking on his shoulder caveman style. "C’mon, time to shower, change and then breakfast. We've a lot of time to make up for. I’ll give you a tour of the island."

 

Jon’s idea of touring the island was by tandem paragliding.

 

"Do you think you can handle it?" he asked teasingly.

 

"Bring it on," she countered with a knowing smile on her lips. Hadn’t he learned yet that she thrived on challenges?

 

Lady was also included. She was harnessed with a strap placed around Sansa’s neck, seating her comfortably on her lap, while Jon piloted behind them. Sansa learned that whenever Jon went paragliding, he brought Lady along for the ride. His attitude towards Lady turned from veiled indifference when she first lived with them to pure love.

 

As the paraglider soared higher, her eyes feasted on the verdant carpet of trees surrounding the villa and the expanse of the glittering, blue sea with white, foaming waves clawing against the powdery sands. It was a majestic scene.

 

"Aaaaahhhhhhhhh….." Sans screamed at the top of her lungs. The adrenaline rush and exhiliration of gliding in the air with the wind blowing on her face and the sun vividly painting the scenery below in a kaleidoscope of color had her gasping with delight. Lady, on the other hand, was comfortably snuggling on her lap and seemed to be taking everything in stride.

 

A delicious champagne lunch in his yacht served with grilled lobster, salads, different kinds of cheeses, thick crusty bread and a variety of fresh fruits awaited, including a dog gourmet meal for Lady.

 

She glanced at Jon’s handsome profile. The wind swept his hair in a tousled just-got-out-bed look, and his open cotton shirt showed the ridged lines of his washboard abs to perfection. Black shorts displayed strong, powerful legs. His eyes were hidden behind designer sunglasses, and he was wearing a wide grin on his face. She felt euphoric, and her heart thudded against her chest. 

 

"What made you decide to buy an island when you hardly have time to enjoy it?" she asked.

 

"I thought of developing it into a private resort but later, I changed my mind. This was the perfect hideaway for me when I really want some peace and quiet."

 

He tilted his head and his gaze snared hers, sending slow, burning heat seeping through her body. "I’d like to hear you scream the way you did up there………when you’re writhing beneath me," he murmured with a sexy drawl. Noting her embarrased expression he leaned over, his mouth almost touching her ear. "And you look adorable when you blush."

 

"Will you stop being such a pervert?" she countered with mock annoyance.

 

"I missed you," Jon said softly. "It’s been a while since we had sex and you bring out the pervert in me."

 

 _You bring out much more in me,_  Sansa thought sadly as she gave him a tight-lipped smile. But instead she said, "Me too, Jon. Me too..."

 

* * *

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Sansa stretched slowly and languidly. She felt sated with the soothing feel of the silk sheet covering her body. It brought back memories of last night’s intimacies with Jon. It was delicious, decadent and hot. Jon was an incredible lover.

 

Yesterday, when Jon was showing her around the island, he behaved like a perfect gentleman on a first date. He never even kissed or made a pass at her. But the moment they arrived back at the villa, he followed her in the bathroom. As she tried to untie the knot of her sarong, he came from behind. His arms wrapped around her and, like heat-seeking missiles, his hands caressed her body.

 

_"Hmm, I’ve been so hungry for you," he murmured kissing the nape of her neck. He lifted her on the granite counter. With a gentle tug he slid her towards the edge until she was nestled against him, and then he went on his knees._

 

_He spread her folds and brought his mouth inside, sucking her hard while alternating between her hood. Toe-curling heat rushed down her pelvis. His hands were busy caressing her ass intimately. She threw her head back, and her eyes were glazed with desire._

 

_She sucked in a breath, wanting to push him away and yet her body craved for him to continue. He met her gaze lifting his head for a moment while desperately trying to keep control of his urges. "Don’t stop," she heard herself plead, and enthusiastically he went down to business._

 

 _She was burning from the inside, her hands clutched his hair, and her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her body thrummed from the sweet feeling of his hands and mouth. The sensation was so incredibly torturous and pleasuring that she lost all inhibitions, abandoning herself as he feasted on her_ _._

 

_Afterward, he drew her bath, filling the tub with scented oil and rose petals. Together they relaxed in the fragrant water with her leaning against his chest. Then, he lifted her from the tub, rubbed her body with a thick towel and helped her slip into a silk robe. He dried himself, wrapped a towel around his waist and then carried her into the bedroom. Laying down beside her, he enfolded her in the warmth of his embrace._

 

"You’re awake," Jon drawled softly, breaking through the red mist of ecstasy she was experiencing thinking about their night.

 

She turned at the sound of his voice to find him standing by the bed, naked except for a white towel slung low around his hips, his hair still damp from the shower. He was holding a video camera and was pointing it in her direction.

 

"Stop that," she shrieked, holding the sheet tightly to cover herself.

 

"Ah…isn’t she lovely?" Jon whispered like he’s sharing a secret to the viewers. "That ladies, and gentlemen is the delectable creature I ravished last night, I’m sorry, all through the night. C’mon sweetheart, flash me those beautiful pair of knockers you’re hiding there. And they’re natural too."

 

Instead of being offended, she felt hot and delicious all over. _What a wanton you are, Sansa._ Giggling she muttered, "Do you know what you’re doing, Jon? If someone gets hold of that video, we’re totally screwed. The tabloids will pay millions to have your naked behind splashed all over the front page."

 

"I beg to disagree with you, sweet girl. The tabloids will not dare to do so because they know I’ll sue their pants off. Strike a pose babe and show me what you’ve got."

 

Smiling at the camera, Sansa seductively swiped her tongue across her lips and flashed him. Then, with a sinuous glide, she sat on the bed, let go of the sheet leaving her upper body, and raised her hands to lift her hair in a provocative pose. The jut of her perfect breasts sent heat straight to Jon’s groin that he almost dropped the camera.

 

With a suppressed groan he asked, "So Sansa Stark, can you describe how good Jon Targaryen is in bed?"

 

"Who?" she asked with a mocked defiance. "Oh him? Well, he's alright. It's been a while since I slept with other guys so I may have to look for a lover or two to make a comparison."

 

"Not if they don’t want to be beaten to a pulp," he intejected.

 

"And a jealous lover too," she added with an impish grin. Crooking her index finger towards the camera, she willed Jon to move in closer.

 

In a flash, she grabbed it, pushed Jon on his back, and straddled him. She deleted the video of herself and pointed the camera to his face. She's not so stupid to let a man have a video of her being naked. Not even if he is the guy she loves. Technology cannot be trusted wholeheartedly.

 

"Now it’s my turn," she chirped triumphantly. She slowly moved downward to focus the camera down Jon's body and stopped at his cock. "My, my, look at that. Filming is turning you on, isn't it?"

 

His mouth went dry as he stared at Sansa’s naked body with her tousled just-out-bed hair which was incredibly sexy. She can bring a saint to sin. "No, you do," he groaned. Taking the camera, he turned it off and placed it on the side table.

 

Jon was about to burst with sexual tension and looking at Sansa’s flushed expression, it was obvious she was turned on as much as he was. Grabbing her waist he shifted his weight and lay her across the bed to ravish his angel. They didn't get out of bed till the evening.

 

* * *

 

 

Jon surprised her with tickets to watch Puccini’s "Turandot." She was so happy that she screamed while grabbing his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist and raining kisses all over his face.

 

As the haunting refrain of "Nessun Dorma" surrounded their special box in the opera house, Jon glanced at Sansa’s profile. She was at the edge of her seat as she watched the opera unfolding on the stage. From her sad, almost mesmerized expression, it was clear she was moved by the story.

 

Gods, she’s beautiful. She’s wearing a lilac one shoulder gown that hugged her chest and fell softly like a cloud in sweeping folds down to her dainty feet encased in silver strappy sandals. Its simplicity complemented the ring he gave her. He could not take his eyes off her.

 

Just a few hours ago, they were making passionate love after their return from the island. He was like a randy teen-ager unable to keep his hands off her. The moment they were inside the penthouse, he swiftly pressed her against the door. If she only knew the power she had on him, and the knowledge that he could not get enough of her.

 

He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered the haunting words of the song, "At dawn, I will whisper it to your lips alone….my kiss will break the silence…and you will be mine."

 

She turned to look at him, her eyes misty with tears, "That’s so beautiful," she whispered, lifting her hand to press against his cheek. They gazed at each other for a moment before turning their attention back to the stage.

 

"How about a glass of champagne?" he suggested as they rose to wait for the next act.

 

"Yes, that would be great," she answered breathlessly, placing a hand on his arm as she leaned against him. "Did I forget to thank you for this wonderful evening?"

 

Jon wrapped his arm around her waist and smiled. "Happy?"

 

She nodded. 

 

Then Jon's expression turned serious and he pulled Sansa in tighter as if he was afraid she'd run. "Sansa, I hope this is a good time as any. You should know that---"

 

Before he could finish, they heard a low, plaintive voice call him. "Jon, darling." Turning her head to where the voice came from, Sansa saw a vision in red. She had a pretty face framed by red, silky hair that had been swept up with wispy tendrills cascading down an elegant neck. Her beauty was heightened by full, crimson lips and eyes enhanced by smoky eyeshadow. Feminine and statuesque, the strapless gown hugged her body like a second skin.

 

"I’ve missed you," she said breathlessly as she rushed forward to embrace Jon. But before she could reach him, Sansa moved in front of Jon, effectively blocking her.

 

"Excuse me," Sansa tartly exclaimed, "Do I know you?"

 

Taken aback, Ygritte replied confusedly, "My bad, I should've introduced myself. I’m Ygritte, Jon’s girlfriend. Who are you?"

 

"Hi, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you," she said and then turned to Jon. "You should've mentioned this lovely lady before, honey." 

 

Meanwhile, Jon froze, stunned at Sansa's brilliant sarcastic acting skills and her jealousy over him. Internally he was doing a happy dance! He wanted to kiss her nose and say, _"That's my girl."_ But he let her handle this. Sansa deserves it, given how much jealousy she has endured from his side. He isn't planning to drop it in the future too. He _can't_.

 

"It's nice to meet you," Sansa smilingly continued. Raising her hand to show off her ring she said, "As you can see, I’m Jon’s fiancee, Sansa Stark."

 

Ygritte gasped, her eyes almost bulging with astonishment, and she desperately turned to look at Jon for confirmation.

 

Leaning against Jon in a possessive gesture, Sansa continued, "Now that you know, stay away from my man. Do you understand?"

 

Turning to face a surprised Jon, she lifted her hands to his necktie, pretending to fix it. "And as for you, honey, tell your ex-girlfriend that I don’t make idle threats and if she values what’s good for her, she’ll stay away from you."

 

She again faced Ygritte who was breathing unevenly with her eyes like daggers pointed at her. "You don’t scare me," Ygritte said, unable to comprehend what was going on. 

 

Without missing a beat, Sansa grabbed Jon's arm and turned to walk away. "See you later," she said to Ygritte breezily.

 

Both of them were silent for a while. Sansa inclined her head to catch Jon’s smiling amusedly. "Now, what was I talking about before we were rudely interrupted…ah…I was just about to thank you."

 

A wicked gleam in his eyes lit up his handsome face. "Are you aware of how sexy you are when you’re jealous? You’re like a wolf with your teeth bared and ready to pounce. Seeing you like that makes me want to take you right here, right now."

 

Sansa rolled her eyes but she was feeling ecstatic inside.

 

Jon’s hands curved over her shoulders, whirled her around and lifted her chin. "There’s no need for you to get jealous. I only have eyes for you so don’t let her spoil our evening." He then continued, "You admitted to Ygritte that I’m your fiancee. Does it mean you’ve accepted my proposal?"

 

"No. It's just that you can't expect me to not claim you when every man here sees me wearing a big fat diamond ring."

 

Jon chuckled. "Fair enough."

 

"Why don’t you get me the glass of champagne you promised while I go to the ladies room to powder my nose?"

 

Did she imagine a fleeting frown cross his face? Somehow, his smile did not quite reach his eyes. "Meet me at the private lounge later. I-uh I have something important to tell you," he said while fidgeting with his hands nervously before sauntering away to get their drinks.

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa gazed at herself in the mirror. She looked calm and collected alright but inside, her heart was racing and her nerves were on edge. To read about Jon’s girlfriends in the internet was one thing, but she was unprepared to meet one up close and personal. As far as she was concerned, jealousy was a wasted emotion. But who was she kidding? If her reaction to Ygritte was any indication, she just discovered she’s a jealous shrew. A very jealous shrew.

 

She was jolted by the vibration of her cell phone. Picking it up, she immediately recognized Daario’s voice, and he sounded pissed. "Sansa, I’ve been calling you for the past hour. Why aren’t you answering my calls?"

 

"I’m watching an opera. Unfortunately, my cell phone was on vibrate mode, and I placed my purse by the empty seat beside me. What did you find out that is so urgent and can’t wait?"

 

Trying to sound casual he replied, “For starters, lover boy served in the military.”

 

Her eyes widened. “He is a soldier?”

 

“Was a soldier,” Daario corrected her. “He enlisted with the Night's Watch a few years after his mother died. Turned out he was a natural and excelled in everything they threw at him. His remarkable intelligence and physical strength not only in combat but also as a brilliant tactician earned him the respect of his superiors as well as his colleagues. He was recruited and became part of the elite Intelligence Group. He didn’t stay long though and left to work for his father and eventually took over running their business empire.”

 

She bit her lower lip, looking bewildered. Daario was very thorough and there’s nothing he can’t uncover. When it comes to work, he is like a dog with a bone. Once he is onto something, he’d never let go until he had the answer.

 

After a beat she heard Daario curse under his breath before he blurted, "And I found out who stole the necklace."

 

Sansa felt a shiver down her spine. "Who?"

 

There was a heavy pause. Daario’s hesitation was palpable and she sensed that what he was about to reveal what would have a devastating effect on her. His voice was almost inaudible when he said, "Sans, I hate to say this, but it’s your uncle. He’s the mastermind behind the robbery."

 

Sansa saw her face drain of color. She didn’t want to believe, but knowing Daario, he had never made a mistake all throughout their partnership. "How? How did he do it Daario?"

 

"He and his men coerced Theon to help in the robbery and he timed it when you went to Athens after your brother’s death. You were the perfect scapegoat, being present at the hotel at the time of the robbery. Somehow, Petyr knew of your intention to take the necklace."

 

"Are you telling me that the necklace had already been switched before I took it?"

 

"Yes. Without being aware, you were Petyr’s unwitting accomplice."

 

Like a jigsaw puzzle everything fitted into place. Petyr would sometime linger when she was on the phone.

 

"Can you give me a minute to collect my thoughts, Daario? This is somewhat of a shock to my system, and I need to clear my head."

 

"Take your time, Sansa. I’ll wait on the line. I realize this is something personal so my advise to you is to look at this objectively. I don’t want you to do anything stupid like go on a rampage against Petyr."

 

Sansa started pacing to calm her nerves. It was a clever plan. Heck, she even admitted to stealing the necklace. According to Jon, the investigation pointed to her as the thief. Wait a minute. So how come Jon didn’t go to her directly to confront her with the glaring evidence? Why did he contact Petyr? Why did he invest in their business? _Because he knew Petyr was in on the robbery, you ninny. You were his accomplice. Divide and conquer. He took you as his girlfriend while watching over Petyr’s activities through his investments._

 

Her hands were shaking, and there was a tremor in her voice as she held the phone against her ear. "Daario, Jon knew Petyr was involved."

 

Daario blew out a sigh. "Yes."

 

Sansa closed her eyes, trying to stifle the sob that’s threatening to escape from her mouth. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes and made a decision.

 

"Get me out of here now" she said.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BET YOU DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING!


	15. Chapter 15

As Jon sipped the strong Turkish coffee, he stared intensely at the townhouse across the street. From his vantage point, sitting at a table in a café with floor to ceiling glass facade, he had a clear view of Sansa’s bedroom. She had just disappeared like a ghost that night. But considering Sansa, he should no longer be surprised.

 

For the first time since his mother died, Jon tasted fear. The past few days have been a constant battle. He’s never felt so wretched and alone in a long time. Somehow the sadness he experienced when his mother passed away equalled to the desolation he was feeling at the thought of losing Sansa. She could be in danger and the sooner he could get to her, the better. He can protect her, keep her safe.

 

It didn’t take long for him to track Sansa down. Within 24 hours of Sansa and Daario's arrival in Istanbul, he got his report. All he had to do was trace all the flights leaving Athens from the time Sansa disappeared. By process of elimination, he was able to zero in on Sansa’s figure walking through the airport with another man who he presumed to be Daario. They’re good but his military training and experience running after suspected terrorists and spies made it easy for him to find them.

 

He glanced around the café. Located on the ground floor, a metal framed pavilion led to the elegant old architecture of the building. The décor of the interior carries a style that mixed the old and new which he recognized as an Autoban trademark. He hired the company to design his place in Athens. The suspended ceiling was made of hexagonal mesh tiles in shades of black and grey while flying bulb chandeliers cast a subtle glow. An ecletic mix of wooden square tables, lemon and black upholstered chair were lined by the glass windows while white marble-topped round and rectangular tables were strategically scattered around the room. At the back, a white bar with black leather stools occupied the length of the rectangular area. There were also intimate nooks with comfortable sofas and armchairs in shades of mustard and black.

 

In contrast with the beehive of activities out in street, with cars whizzing by through rush hour traffic, people window shopping, shoppers coming out of boutiques lugging their overflowing bags and pedestrians hurrying to catch the bus, it was subdued inside. There were a smattering of customers, some were reading while sipping their drinks, others engaged in quiet conversation while enjoying their meal.

 

Jon looked at his gold Rolex. It’s time to make his move.

 

* * *

 

Sansa paused at the door and let her eyes wander around the decadent bathroom with its purple walls and gleaming multi-colored glass tiles. A curved stained window brought in soft light during the day illuminating the grey slate tiles, wood-framed mirrors flanking a silver cone-shaped wall sconce. Sandwiched between a pair of brown handcrafted single sink cabinet vanity with granite countertops was a fuschia-colored enamel chest table.

 

Tonight, she just wanted to enjoy a hot shower and soak in the bath. Daario wanted to go to a bar but she needed to be alone. With strong assurance that she’s going to be fine, Sansa bade him _“have fun”_ and pushed him out of the door.

 

She placed her wine glass on the side of the bathtub. Stripping off her bathrobe, she sauntered to the glass-enclosed shower, turned the water on, and stepped under the water spray.

 

Once she’s finished, she drew a bath, filling it with scented oil, a mixture of jasmine and roses, put one leg in and then the other and sank down until her body was fully immersed in the fragrant water.

 

Sighing, she leaned back on her bath pillow and reached for her wine, taking leisurely sips as the hot water slowly eased the tension of her muscles. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back.

 

Her mind was busily still absorbing the truth. Petyr set her up. He commisioned a jeweler in London to make the fake necklace and then had Theon switch it with the real one before it was placed on display at the Diamond Star Hotel in Athens. He now has a buyer, a prince from Saudi Arabia who wanted to give it as a gift to his wife. In Istanbul, one week from now, the Prince is giving a big party to celebrate his wife’s birthday in his private residence. He’s planning to give her the necklace as a surprise birthday gift.

 

Apparently, Petyr convinced the Prince he’s got the real necklace, insisting that his wife owned it.

 

She tried to shake it off but Sansa’s mind invariably strayed to Jon. Her emotions were still raw from Jon’s betrayal. After knowing the true story, she'd been thinking that after she recovers the necklace, she'd return it to Jon. He had already told her that his father wanted her to take the necklace, but if Robb knew the truth, he would've wanted the Targaryens to have it. With proper proof that their mothers had been close of course. She knew the story wasn't farfetched. According to the people around town, the Starks and Targaryens were friends before Lysa started the rumor. But now...now that Jon has deliberately kept her in the dark, she wasn't so sure about playing magnanimous. But she still couldn't deny she loved him dearly. Why do all the men in her life turn out to be such pigs?

 

Annoyed with herself, Sansa stepped out of the bathtub and rubbed herself vigorously with the thick, purple towel until her skin was all tingly and pink. She put on black lace thongs and dressed in a light grey tracksuit, with a short sleeve hoodie and matching low rise bottom. This was no time for her to brood over that jerk and try to sort out the tangle of emotions that left her exposed and vulnerable.

 

* * *

 

Jon hoisted himself over the balustrade, then dropped softly on the stone terrace. Moving quickly he picked the lock of the French door. The lock was a joke. He could open it with his eyes closed. Earlier he’d entered the townhouse while Sansa and Daario were out and swept it for bugs and hidden cameras. He found a hidden camera pointing at the front entrance and another one for the rear entrance.

 

Purple drapes with gold metallic leaf patterns and sheer white curtains fluttered as he closed the French door behind him. Silently, he crossed the hardwood floor. He’d memorized the room’s layout so that even in the dark, he could move his way around. The brass bed leaned on one wall which was covered with a photograph of a street scene while an antique armoire occupied the opposite side. There’s a small sitting area with a purple love seat, a black leather armchair and a fuschia and apple green printed chair were arranged around a small mahogany round table with black marble top. A suitcase stood at the foot of the bed ready to be picked up at short notice.

 

Jon sensed her presence behind him before he was struck by a hard object on the right shoulder. He spun around to deflect the next blow and grabbed her wrist. The object, a brass vase, dropped on the floor with a thud.

 

The moment he released her hand, Sansa started pummeling his chest with her fists. She tried to kneed his groin area but he quickly pulled her tightly against him, lifting her off her feet. “Let me go,” she shrieked while squirming and kicking her legs.

 

“Calm down, it’s me,” he murmured willing her to recognize him. In the dim light, her face was pale and her eyes glittered with anger.

 

“What are you doing here? Haven’t you had enough ruining my life?” Sansa snapped coldly.

 

Her alabaster skin seemed to have an inner glow. Even in anger she’s incredibly beautiful. He could feel the swell of her perfect breasts against his chest through the thin cotton top that had ridden up, giving him a tantalizing view of her midriff. Geez, he needed to focus. “Give me a chance to explain, Sansa.”

 

Sansa realized it was futile to protest further and her attempt to fend off Jon only succeeded in making her winded and flustered. Daario may come back any time and she didn’t want the two men to engage in a fight. “Dinner. Forty-five minutes. That's all you get,” she spat with as much venom as she could muster.

 

It was almost dusk when they left the house. She refused to talk to him all the way to the restaurant.

 

His quiet demeanor gave Sansa a chance to soak in the sights as the car wound its way along the Bhosporus strait dotted with magnificent homes of the ultra-rich. Crossing the majestic Bosphorus Bridge, she was fascinated by the changing colors and patterns of lights made possible by a computerized LED lighting system. Glancing down the waters, cruise boats were teeming with tourists eager to sample the exotic surroundings of old mixed with the new Istanbul. It did not take long before they were swallowed by the bustling streets leading to the embassy row of Beyoglu where the restaurant was located.

 

Jon pulled up in front of a building with an imposing white façade. Stepping out he tossed the key to one of his security and walked around Sansa’s side. He opened the door and reached for her hand, helping her gently to her feet. Still holding her hand, Jon led her through a double door to a bank of elevators.

 

As the elevators closed behind them, Sansa tried to wrench her hand from his grasp to no avail. “You’re overplaying your part,” she murmured. He let her have her personal space after that but she could see the flare of tension in his eyes. After what he’s done, how could he still make her care for him?

 

The elevator doors opened. They stared at each other for a few seconds before a man standing just outside stepped forward and greeting them. “Good evening,” he said smiling broadly. Wearing a dark blue suit and black bow tie, he was medium height with receding hairline and sporting a mustache.

 

Jon nodded his head. “Good evening.”

 

“Right this way sir, your table’s waiting.”

 

As the waiter ushered them to their table, Sansa noticed there were only a few other diners and they were all seated in a separate area further away from their table. A table for two with a sofa set was in a secluded corner that afforded complete privacy.

 

The fading ray of the sun slanted through the picture window and the French doors led to the open terrace where a table was set for two. She gazed in awe at the Bosphorus Bridge rising above the water and silhouetted against the setting sun bursting like a fireball of yellows, oranges and pinks.

 

She drew a cleansing breath of the salty air as the melodic chanting echoed like a siren’s song.

 

Sighing, Sansa realized she had stopped walking. She looked around and saw Jon leaning against the table, intently gazing at her. He’s devastating in a snug dark grey long-sleeve cotton shirt that molded an impressive chest and abs and pants that emphasized rather than hide the rippling muscles of his thighs. Just one look and her knees turned to jelly. Focus Sansa. He’s the enemy remember?

 

Without taking his eyes off her, he straightened leisurely, pulled out her chair and sat right beside her. He was so close, and she could smell a tangy aftershave. Her heart was beating a frantic staccato against her ribs but she didn’t flinch and stood her ground. Damn if she’d give him any indication of just how much his nearness affected her.

 

Thankfully the waiter appeared at that moment, took the bottle of champagne from the gleaming silver bucket, poured their first drink and discreetly moved away.

 

After they were comfortably settled, Sansa noticed a bruise on his left jaw. Stunned, her fingers instinctively brushed gently against his reddened jawline. “What happened to you?” she asked.

 

Jon grasped her hand and pressed it against his jaw. “Oh, this. It connected to something hard,” he admitted.

 

“Somethin hard?” she echoed.

 

Shrugging he conceded hesitantly. “Yeah, Daario’s fist.” As her mouth gaped open he hastily added, “Well, I went to see Daario to get some answers. Of course, he was angry, called me a sonofabitch among other things and punched me. It was quite a speech and if I hadn’t been able to deflect his blows, he would have beaten me to a pulp.”

 

She sucked in a breath and snatched her hands back from his grip. “You deserved it,” she shrugged taking a sip of the champagne.

 

“There are two sides to every story, Sansa,” he murmured, framing her face with his hands. “And you of all people should definitely know that. But first, you must eat. I know you’re angry with me but I’ll explain once you’re settled.”

 

Sansa narrowed her eyes at him. She was supposed to be good at reading people. It was part of her job but with Jon, she failed miserably.

 

The waiter appeared to present the menu, halting whatever scathing remark Sansa wanted to throw at him. “What would be your pleasure, Miss Stark?” he asked.

 

Sansa forced herself to quickly calm down. Tilting her head, she regarded the waiter with a strained smile. “Call me Sansa,” she breezily, glanced briefly at the menu and decided on a light meal.

 

“I’ll have the same,” Jon echoed, not bothering to look at the menu, his eyes focused on her.

 

The waiter beamed. “Excellent choice.” Clicking his heels, he disappeared like a genie to attend to their order.

 

“So need more small talk?” she asked scathingly.

 

He tried to ignore the mesmerizing eyes that narrowed into to slits and gorgeous flushed cheeks. Smiling he said, “Do you remember what I told you before about my penchant for antiques and old architecture? This building was built in the 18th century.”

 

“And you’re telling me this because…..”

 

Jon smiled seeing her roll her eyes adorably. “Because this building was special to me and since you like historical, iconic places, I’m thinking this was the perfect setting to apologize. I want to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you.”

 

She pursed her lips, willing herself not to react. “Enough of beating around the bush. Explain yourself, Jon.”

 

Jon wrapped his arm around Sansa's shoulder and pulled her closer to him. “Okay, but I want you to stay calm.”

 

Sansa merely blinked at that, frowning.

 

Jon looked at her hands and using his thumb, he started tracing circles on her hand soothingly. “At first I thought you and Petyr conspired to steal the necklace. When I dug deeper I found out that your uncle had planned everything effectively, killing two birds with one stone. I was planning to tell you all of it, I swear, but then I found out...” He trailed off.

 

Sansa snatched her hand away. “Found out what?” she pressed skeptically.

 

Jon sighed and said in a rush, “Petyr has been poisoning Robin.”

 

Sansa gasped and her eyes became wide. She stood up and froze. That son of a bitch. Making up her mind, she angrily took out her phone. “He is done,” she said through gritted teeth. Before she could press on the call button, Jon grabbed her phone and put it in his back pocket.

 

“GIVE IT TO ME!” She said, struggling in his arms as he held her tightly.

 

“Sansa, calm down. I know you can, you're level-headed. This is a dangerous game we are playing. Can't afford to make mistakes,” he mumbled against her hair, feeling grateful that the restaurant was mostly empty.

 

Sansa took a deep breath and settled back in the chair. Jon was probably right. When did he become the calm collected person out of the two of them? She lifted her tear-filled eyes to him. “Why didn't you tell me?” She asked trying to mask the quiver in her voice.

 

Jon stroked her hair and had her nuzzled against his chest. “Because it’s the only way I can protect you from Petyr.  I just wanted to wait until everything was going according to plan. If I told you he was behind the robbery, you would've dug deeper and found out about Robin. I wanted to see to your cousin's health without involving you in the mess and keep you as far away from Petyr as possible. I know your first instinct would be to bring your cousin to a safe place, and if you do that, it's only a matter of time before Petyr finds out you know the truth. He's capable of doing terrible things, Sansa...without a second thought.”

 

She looked down and fidgeted with her hands. “I'm part of an unsafe family. Unsafe situation. You don't even want the necklace now. So why are you involving yourself in my mess?” 

 

Her genuine confusion broke his heart. How could she believe no one cared for her? “Because...because you have become one of the most important people in my life now.”

 

Sansa almost gasped at how dead on he was with regards to his feelings. It wasn't like her before Jon at all. How much had he changed during their separation? She tried to pull away from his grip but he would not let go.

 

Sansa wanted her anger and feelings of betrayal to remain as a shield against the mounting emotions churning inside her, but his confession took her breath away. She ought to be angered by his high-handedness and appalled by the deception. Instead, she was touched by the idea that he actually cared what happened to her. “How's Robin?”

 

“I appointed a spy in Petyr's home. He's being taken care of.”

 

Sansa swallowed hard and peered at him through misty eyes. Finding her voice she croaked, “I appreciate what you did for Robin.”

 

Jon smiled and tenderly brushed the back of her thumb. Then his lips turned down and he gulped before saying, “When you left, I realized--”

 

The muffled footsteps of the waiter halted their conversation. He placed an assortment of mouth-watering food on the table as Jon reluctantly let go of her hand.

 

When they were left alone, she murmured, “I want you to promise me one thing, Jon, before I even consider trusting you again. Promise me you’ll never keep me in the dark again, no matter how good your intentions are.”

 

Jon raised his glass and spoke softly. “I would like to propose a toast. To a new beginning for us. I promise there will be no more secrets that I’ll keep from you.”

 

Sansa reached for her glass. As their glasses touched, she murmured, “To new beginnings.”

 

For the next hour, they set aside talks about the necklace. Jon regaled her with stories about his experience as a young man backpacking around Europe with his university buddies, sleeping in modest inns, experiencing the ordinary way of life that most people take for granted. The anonymity of not being hounded by the media as a wealthy heir was exhilarating and one of the best experiences of his life.

 

Reluctantly, Sansa started to enjoy herself, even asking questions and making comments about her own experiences when he mentioned places she’d visited herself.

 

He was so charming, feeding her food with his own spoon. “Here, this is one of my favorites,” he murmured. As her mouth opened to take it, his eyes glittered. The raw hunger and desire reflected in the dark pools sent shivers down her body. He wanted her and if he made a move this minute she wasn’t sure if she would be able to resist. _You’re pathetic, Sansa,_ she silently berated herself.

 

They were so engrossed that when Sansa’s eyes wandered, she noticed the restaurant empty except for the two of them and the remaining staff. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome,” she said.

 

He pulled at his drink before replying. “We don’t want to be interrupted, would we?”

 

As if on cue, she heard footsteps approaching and turning to the direction where it came from, her gaze drifted to the sight of Daario flanked on both sides by Jon’s security. Looking dapper in wheat colored motorcycle jacket over a blue shirt and black pants, his smile spread slowly as soon as he saw her.

 

He placed a hand on the back of her neck when he reached their table. “Are you okay?”

 

“Of course I’m okay,” she smiled back and patted his hand. “We’ve been in tighter situations before.”

 

Jon cleared his throat, glaring at Daario’s hand tracing circles on Sansa's nape. “If you’re done with the reunion, why don’t you grab a seat and join us Daario?” he drawled with a tinge of annoyance.

 

Daario took the seat opposite Jon and Sansa while the head of security sat on the opposite table.

 

“Have you told her the good news?” Daario asked, his eyes focused on Jon as he ordered a glass scotch on the rocks from the hovering waiter.

 

Jon responded with a stony silence as he stared at the view outside, his face completely devoid of expression. He waited until the waiter placed Daario’s drink in front of him and melted silently away before he spoke. “Was waiting for you.”

 

Confused, Sansa turned to Jon. “What’s going on?”

 

“While you were resting, I had a long talk with Daario and advised him that it would be in our best interest if we joined forces to get the necklace back.”

 

“Only if you approve of me helping his team,” Daario hastily added.

 

“What about me? Am I included in this plan?”

 

It was Jon’s turn to look discomfited. His fingers clawed through his hair searching for the right words. “Sansa, it would be better if you’re not involved. This is too personal for you, and if your emotions to get in the way, mistakes and errors in judgement can happen. More than all that, your safety is my first priority.”

 

Sans rolled her eyes. Men. What made them think they can rule the world without women? All those batman, spiderman and supermen movies must have must have muddled their brains. “No. I hate to break the chest thumping macho image you have of yourselves but I can take care of myself. I’m more than capable. Petyr has gone too far and I’m no longer going to tolerate his cruelty. I was hoping he would change somehow but I’ve just realized he’s a lost cause. I have to do this for myself, Robb and my late mother. And if I have to do it alone, so be it,” she declared in a low, ominous tone.

 

Jon and Daario who've been guiltily staring at their food instead of looking at her blurted out almost in unison, “It’s not like tha…”

 

Without giving anyone of them a chance to continue, Sans held out two wallets. “Oh, by the way, gentlemen, did you happen to drop your wallets?” she asked, batting her eyelashes and flashing them with a smug smile. “While you little boys were listening to my speech, I was picking your pockets clean.”

 

Daario snickered as Jon blushed.

 

“Ok Sansa, you’ve made your point,” he muttered staring at her with an embarrassed smile.

 

Tilting her head and biting her lips, she gazed at Jon. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Can you speak louder please?”

 

Jon lowered his head, his lips almost brushing her ear. “You’re in, satisfied?” he whispered huskily, his eyes riveted to her mouth, and his tight expression flashed into a wolfish grin. The air between them suddenly sizzled with heat and lust, and it took Sansa’s every ounce of self-control not to lick her lips. Damn. He can turn her on like a light switch with just one look from those mesmerizing eyes.

 

Daario coughed to catch their attention.

 

Snapping back from inappropriate vivid images of her lying naked beneath Jon, Sansa leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Gentlemen, now that I’m part of the team, shall we discuss an action plan to steal back the necklace?”

 

* * *

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

From the car’s tinted window, Sansa watched the familiar blue and white trams weave like giant caterpillars through the streets of Paradeplatz, the financial district in Zurich. It was almost noon and people were clustered in groups at the outdoor café fronting one of the largest banks in Switzerland. The lunch crowd sat around wooden tables shaded from the bright sunlight by white umbrellas that dot the side of the street close to the bank’s main entrance.

 

Not paying too much attention to the hubub of activity, her focus was directed at the door leading to the bank where she’s expecting Petyr to enter at any moment.

 

“You’re really good with disguises,” Jon chuckled beside her.

 

Briefly glancing at him, Sansa smiled. Dressed in black suit over snowy white shirt, dark blue silk necktie and sporting a beard and eyeglasses, he looked like a banker. A sexy, drop dead gorgeous banker. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

 

Jon’s eyes assessed her in the three-fourths sleeve black dress that hugged her stunning figure. The chestnut shoulder length wig and green contact lenses completely changed her appearance. He was not surprised to find out why Daario and Sansa were experts in their field. They easily picked up on the flow of his plan, asked relevant questions in relation to their respective role in the team, took apart and ironed out any imperfections. “I wouldn’t have recognized you if I met you on the street. You’ve even changed your demeanor and the way you walk in that stilettos.”

 

“It’s not enough to just wear a disguise, a little playacting goes a long way into convincing people that you’re really who you say you were.” Turning back her attention to the bank’s entrance she asked, “How did you get the Prince to agree to pose as the buyer of the necklace?”

 

“We go way back university days, and we were in some classes. Then we kept in touch through our business dealings. Right now, I’m planning to build a hotel in his country with his help. He’s quite happy since he wanted to boost tourism and create more jobs for his people.”

 

Jon’s eyes scanned the crowd and spotted his men strategically positioned around the perimeter of the bank. They arrived last night in his private plane and stayed at the hotel just a few blocks from where they’re parked.

 

So far, everything’s in place. Petyr Baelish also checked in at the same hotel two hours after their arrival accompanied by his four bodyguards. He’ll leave Zurich for Istanbul as planned in the Prince's private plane to personally deliver the necklace. Jon and Sansa would be part of the flight crew.

 

“Listen up folks, subject is five minutes away,” Daario’s voice droned in their ears.

 

“Acknowledged,” Jon answered. He turned to Sansa with a frown marring his handsome face. “Please be safe.”

 

“Jon, we’ve discussed this a million times,” Sansa huffed, glaring at him. This was the moment she’d been waiting for.

 

Jon raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Ok, I got the message loud and clear. It's just that my only concern is you.”

 

She rewarded him with a reluctant grin. In a perfect southern accent she husked, “Stop turning into a white knight in shining armor on me.”

 

Leaning closer he murmured, “And there’s nothing I want right now than to haul you back in our hotel suite and have my wicked ways with you.” He framed Sansa’s face and kissed her hard. “Good luck.”

 

Putting on a pair of Jackie Onassis sunglasses, she opened the door and walked towards the bank.

 

Petyr, wearing a dark grey suit and carrying a black leather briefcase, entered the bank accompanied by two of his bodyguards.

 

Sansa followed at a respectable distance, and her eyes were trained on the Petyr’s back. “You’re doing fine, Sansa,” Daario advised. “The camera in your glasses is picking up the image of that bastard loud and clear.”

 

As the bodyguards hovered a few paces behind, Petyr approached one of the windows and indicated he wanted to get something from his safety deposit box.

 

A female staff who looked to be in her forties with short blond hair and wearing a dark blue suit asked for his identification. Satisfied after Petyr handed her his passport, she motioned to her colleague, a young man, to accompany him to the vault.

 

Petyr thanked her and turned around to follow when he collided with Sansa, causing her to drop her purse, and its content spilled on the marble floor. Sansa pressed her hands on his chest in a gesture of apology. “I’m so sorry, that was very clumsy of me,” she exclaimed in her well practiced accent and dropped down on her knees to pick up the contents of her purse.

 

He regarded her with a piercing gaze, causing her insides to tighten, awareness skittering down her spine at the possibility he might recognize her. There was no flicker of recognition. He did not even pause to help nor acknowledge her apology and proceeded to follow the bank staff as if nothing had happened.

 

“He is really a jerk, isn't he?” Daario quipped.

 

One of the bank’s security guard came to her side. “Miss, are you alright?” he asked.

 

With the contents back in her purse, Sansa stood up and smiled at the guard. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

 

“Good girl. The camera you planted is now transmitting perfectly.” Daario whispered excitedly.

 

The woman behind the glass window tapped to catch her attention. “Can I help you?”

 

Looking disconcerted, Sansa answered. “I was supposed to pick up some jewelry from my safety deposit box but I seemed to have misplaced my passport and my husband is waiting outside. He’s not really a patient man. I’ll just have to come back.”

 

“Husbands,” the woman acknowledged with a conspiratorial grin. “Unfortunately, we can’t allow access to safety deposit boxes without proof of identification and we require passports from non-residents. I’m sorry.”

 

Sansa beamed at the clerk. “I understand and you don’t have to apologize. I better go before he blows a fuse. Have a nice day.”

 

Stepping out in the sunlight, she spotted Jon walking in her direction. She nodded to him, turned right and followed the path leading to the street corner. As soon as she reached the curb the sleek black Mercedes Benz Jon was driving earlier drew up, and she climbed in the back seat.

 

Inside the car, a laptop was already beaming images from the invisible camera Sansa pressed on Petyr’s necktie. A paper thin device that blended with any surface it’s attached to, just like a chameleon. Petyr took the necklace from the safety deposit box then placed it in a black case that he locked with a card key and his thumbprint for added security.

 

Sansa’s heart was pumping so fast at the sight of the necklace. Right away, she knew it was genuine. “Jon, he’s got the real necklace and is about to leave the room,” she uttered excitedly.

 

The front entrance to the bank was directly in Jon’s sight as he sat calmly on one of the umbrella-covered chairs, pretending to read a newspaper. Sansa’s excited voice had already alerted him that Petyr was on his way out.

 

He didn’t wait long as Petyr appeared accompanied with his two bodyguards. “He’s on his way, don’t lose him,” he commanded his men who had been strategically placed to follow Petyr’s every movement.

 

It would have been easy to take the diamonds from Petyr but her uncle might connect him back to her. He’s not going to jeopardize Sansa’s safety and expose her to Petyr’s wrath. The man was a narcissistic sociopath and from what he’s learned, Petyr is in deep financial trouble caused by his sex addiction. A desperate man’s capable of anything.

 

“Jon, he’s moving,” Daario reported.

 

He stood up when he spotted the black car across the street and started walking. “Good. Stay with him. Sansa and I won't be far behind.”

 

Sansa watched as Jon moved with ease among the crowd, moving with catlike precision. Cool and collected, he approached the car. Opening the door, he eased himself beside Sansa and signalled the driver to get going.

 

“Daario is right behind him,” Sansa murmured, indicating the movement of Petyr’s vehicle from the computer screen.

 

Jon observed the movement of the vehicle and judging the from it’s speed, it seemed the occupants were not aware they were being followed. He waited until their car was right behind Daario’s black SUV before he gave his next instruction. “Daario, you can now go ahead. We’ll follow from hereon.”

 

“Copy that,” Daario answered. “I’ll see you at the plane.”

 

They followed the car at a respectable distance.

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa donned a red blazer over the black dress, and Jon removed his jacket and shrugged into a black pilot double-breasted uniform. Everything was going according to their plan.

 

She gazed at Jon’s profile, so focused he hardly registered her presence, his eyes riveted to his quarry. Being used to Daario, it was a little disconcerting to work with another individual especially one who happened to be her lover.

 

Jon turned and smiled at her searching stare. “How are you holding up?”

 

“Not to worry. This is not the first time I’ve been on a mission,” she mumbled.

 

He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Atta girl,” he said softly before turning his attention back to the monitor. She was trying her best to look brave but he knew better. It must have been hard to accept that her uncle was not only an abusive monster but also instrumental in framing her. He itched to take her in his arms and just hold her.

 

Within fifteen minutes they followed Petyr's car as it navigated the curve leading to Zurich International Airport straight onto the tarmac to the Prince's plane.

 

As soon as Petyr’s car stopped, four men, part of Jon’s security stood by the car doors. One of them tapped the driver’s side and as per Jon’s instruction, requested that they stay in the car a few more minutes to make sure the plane's well secured.

 

Jon stepped out of the car, walked around to Sansa’s side and opened the door for her. Pulling their carry on luggage, a red one for her and black for him, they boarded the plane first.

 

As soon as they were onboard, Jon and Sansa proceeded to the front of the plane where the conference room was located. Daario was already seated in the middle of the conference table, designed from a giant airplane wing, the details of which could be gleaned from the glass surface. A dozen comfortable light brown leather armchairs were placed around it.

 

He was looking at several monitors showing various areas inside the plane. As the door closed behind them, he turned and smiled. “No glitch so far. Petyr did not open the case from the time he left the bank so the necklace is intact and untampered.”

 

Jon and Sansa sat on either side of Daario just as Petyr and his entourage were climbing up the plane’s ladder. They were greeted by the Prince's representative and followed him to the plane’s main area complete with plush cream leather sofas occupying opposite walls, a rectangular mahogany table flanked by a pair of matching armchairs. The area was further complemented by a magnificent Ninghsia carpet in hues of ivory and blue.

 

Petyr sat on the sofa while the two bodyguards sat on the armchairs. He placed the attached case containing the necklace on the coffee table.

 

The representative stood before him and slightly bowed his head. “On behalf of the Prince, I welcome you. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Podrick and I’m here to escort your party to Istanbul where, the royal highness is anticipating your arrival.”

 

Petyr rested his arm on the sofa just above and nonchalantly crossed his leg. “Thank you. I’m grateful for the warm hospitality granted to me by the Prince.”

 

“It will take about two hours to reach Istanbul so if you prefer to use the time to rest, there’s a bedroom where you’ll be most comfortable and I can send something to drink and someone to entertain you. The Prince has some excellent Dom Perignons on board and the finest Beluga caviar,” Podrick politely suggested.

 

Short of smacking his lips with satisfaction, Petyr answered, “That’s an excellent suggestion. Why don’t you lead the way to the bedroom?”

 

“Please follow me,” Podrick said as he walked ahead towards the rear of the plane. On the way, Petyr instructed his bodyguards to just stay put and wait for him to call them.

 

Podrick opened the door and smiling, he motioned for them to enter. The all white bedroom was the peak of luxury, the focal point being a king size bed with white leather headboard, the finest silk cover and a fur throw. It was flanked by two white side tables holding crystal lamps with white silk shades. On the opposite side was a small sitting area with a loveseat and two armchairs surrounding a round glass table.

 

As Podrick showed Petyr the adjoining bath with separate shower and jacuzzi, two female staff placed their carry on luggage inside the bedroom’s closet.

 

Sansa, accompanied by a male steward, brought in the wine and caviar and placed them on the glass table. She noted that Petyr placed the attache case on one of the side tables. She left before Petyr returned and headed back to the conference room took her seat beside Daario and Jon.

 

They watched as Petyr and a hooker drank champagne and ate the caviar smothered blinis. The woman started stripping, bumping and grinding in her purple lace thong and bra to Sansa’s embarrassment and the men’s amusement. Petyr followed and soon, the couple was thrashing in bed. It was a quickie romp and once it was over, both immediately fell asleep brought on by the sedative added to the champagne.

 

Jon and Sansa quickly moved to the bedroom and took the attache case. Digging inside Petyr’s suit, Sansa fished the card key and gave it to Jon. Taking Petyr’s hand, he pressed his thumb against the thumbprint identification screen and placed the card key inside the slot. The lid popped to reveal the velvet box holding the necklace.

 

Sansa took the case, opened it and gazed at the necklace that haunted her waking hours. Pushing back emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her, she took it out of the case, quickly replaced it with the fake diamond necklace, closed the lid and gave it back to Jon.

 

Jon returned the velvet box inside the attache case and put it back on the side table. Taking the silver bucket holding the wine and the tray of blinis, they slipped out of the room, passing the two bodyguards who were being entertained by a boxing match played out on the large flat screen monitor.

 

The moment they were inside the conference room, they were met by a grinning Podrick and a jubilant Daario pumping his fist with glee. He lifted Sansa and twirled her around until Jon stopped him. “Hey, easy there buddy.”

 

Daario turned to Jon, pumped his hands and gave him a shoulder hug. “Congrats man, I mean congrats to us. We. did. it.”

 

“Thanks for your help, you were excellent. Now I know why Sansa has you for a partner,” Jon said, patting Daario’s shoulder.

 

Sansa could not hold back her tears as she gazed at the Diamond Star necklace she held in her hands. “Robb, I wish you were here. I miss you.”

 

“Sansa,” Jon said raggedly and hugged her from behind, not caring that Daario and Podrick were in the room.

 

Sansa turned around and buried her face against his chest. This was a bittersweet moment for her. She felt joy knowing she's returning the necklace safely back to Lyanna's son, but she also knew her heart would break when it’s time to leave Jon behind and go back to her old life.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess there will be one more chapter left. Thank you for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

When the plane landed in Istanbul, Jon and Sansa went ahead without waiting for Petyr to disembark, leaving the job to Podrick and his crew to take care of them.

 

His security was waiting outside a black SUV and Jon’s car was parked a few feet from the plane. Two of the men opened the car doors for them to climb in and handed Jon the key. He started the car, and without looking back, drove away with his security following closely behind.

 

Jon glanced at Sansa who was unaware she was hugging the black velvet box containing the necklace tightly against her chest. “It’s not going to run away,” he murmured amusedly.

 

Sansa shifted in her seat, still a little dazed. “What?”

 

Grinning, he answered, “The box you’re holding. It’s not going to run away.”

 

The smile she gave him was so pure and radiant, leading him to a place he did not want to explore and stirring emotions he did not want to acknowledge.

 

“This is the best day of my life,” she said softly. “For the first time, after Robb’s death, I’m at peace. Now that we finally have it, I feel that my journey’s over and I can now move on with my life.”

 

The implication of her sentence slowly registered in his head, and as if she’s saying goodbye, Jon felt like he was punched in the solar plexus.

 

The the rest of the ride was silent while Jon was quietly contemplating what the hell was happening to his heart. The words, _"I feel that my journey’s over and I can now move on with my life"_ kept replaying in his mind and he almost broke down into a cold sweat. Even the thought of being separated from Sansa shot down an almost physical pain to his heart. Truthfully, he should be happy that this nightmare is over. But he felt like he'd rather face life-threatening obstacles with Sansa than live safely without her.

 

Still tortured by all these thoughts, Jon led her to the elevator in a daze and went up to the one-bedroom palace roof suite. The interiors were a blend of contemporary and Turkish design with a rich blend of terra cotta, copper and blue accents, and mahogany furniture. Sansa walked straight to the private terrace after she asked Jon to put the necklace in a safe. “What a breathtaking view,” she gushed as her eyes drank in the sight of the Strait of Bosphorus, Maiden Tower, and the Old Town skyline.

 

“I knew you’d like it...I _know_ you,” Jon murmured intently, his eyes following her from where he stood, in the middle of the spacious living room. The way he was looking at her was making her feel extremely uncomfortable.

 

Sansa cleared her throat. “Are you hungry? We're celebrating. Would like me to order something to eat?” she asked cheerfully, turning to walk back inside the room and avoiding his gaze.

 

She hadn't realized she was holding a hand against her chest. “How about a light snack to tide you over before dinner?” She continued. Reaching out, she removed Jon's tie. “I don't have much time to get dressed.”

 

The Prince and his wife were staying at the hotel as Jon's guests. He had graciously accepted Jon's offer to have his wife’s birthday party celebrated at the open-air terrace overlooking the Bosphorus.

 

Jon shrugged off his jacket and sighed. The moment she started talking fast, he knew he had almost scared her with his emotions. Placing it on the coffee table, he pulled her against him. “I want you to wear the necklace tonight.”

 

Sansa’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy? What if I lose it? Have you also considered the fact that Petyr will be there at the birthday party? Do you have any idea what he’ll do if he finds out that we have the real necklace?”

 

He cupped her chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes. “Sansa, I suggest we get him cornered there and arrested. He will also get his just desserts in the hands of the Prince.”

 

Sansa kissed him softly. "I'm on board about getting Petyr arrested. Thank you for asking before making a decision. You are getting better at this, you know?" She smiled at him and then let out a deep sigh. “But I'm not sure about wearing the necklace, Jon.”

 

“Who could be more deserving of wearing the Diamond Star than the daughter of Catelyn, who also happens to be her spitting image,” he whispered. “Please, wear it tonight. For me?”

 

Sansa grinned. “Since you so eloquently put it into words, fine, you win.”

 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, giving her a loud smack on the lips. He sauntered to the wall beside the bed and pressed a hidden button behind a painting of sunflowers. It slid sideways to reveal a hidden safe. He pressed a series of number, opened the safe and took the necklace from it. Once the safe was closed, the painting slid back into place.

 

Sansa gaped at the painting. “That’s an original Van Gogh, isn’t it? Are you not concerned that someone will steal it?”

 

“No. What better way to hide it than to put the painting out in plain sight? Everyone thinks it’s a copy of the original. It has a hidden tracking device so I’ll know when someone snatches it and it’s heavily insured,” Jon murmured and took the necklace from the safe and made her face the mirror. He placed the necklace around her neck and closed the clasp with a snap.

 

Sansa gasped at the sight of the necklace around her neck with the diamond pendant nestled at the hollow of her breasts. “Oh Jon, it’s exquisite,” she said breathlessly.

 

A fleeting sadness passed across Jon’s face but was gone in a second to be replaced by a broad grin. Did she just imagine it?

 

He wrapped his arm around her waist. “Dress up, my queen. We’ll go and meet your subjects.”

 

* * *

 

Jon’s gaze wandered over the glittering crowd of wellwishers. The party planner he hired did an excellent job of executing this elaborate party for the Prince's wife. “The Color Purple” theme was a resounding success and the Princess was ecstatic.

 

The terrace was transformed into an open-air amphitheater with purple semi-circular banquets arranged in clusters facing the spectacular view of the majestic Bosphorus Bridge. As the orchestra played in the background, guests mingled in their finery, the women dazzled in the latest designer gown and the men were dapper in their tuxedo.

 

When Jon's eyes landed on Sansa standing by the fountain, laughing at something the Princess said, everything faded in the background. He’s never looked at a woman before and felt as if the air was being squeezed from his lungs or experienced such longing to possess her. She was like an enchanting fairy casting her spell on every man that dared to look her way. Jealousy had been foreign to him. He thought it was a wasted emotion as many women were available. But he was feeling it now. Jealousy. So jealous he wanted to gouge the eyes of every man who looked at her with lust. He made his way through the throng, unaware of the admiring glances of the female guests.

 

Sansa admired the elegance of the Princess, so lovely in a beaded bordeaux one-shoulder gown, with a draped back and rows of incredible silk fringe that fluttered when she moved. She was the epitome of bliss, basking in her husband’s obvious adoration.

 

It was fascinating to watch two people in love, their body language, their awareness for each other, the secret glances when they thought nobody was watching, and the lingering touch.

 

“It’s too much,” the Princess declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

 

Sansa burst out laughing. “And here I am, green with envy just watching the two of you shamelessly flirt with each other.”

 

“Well, have you noticed the men looking at you? You’re attracting them like moths to a flame.”

 

“I doubt it, but thanks for the compliment.”

 

“And one of them is from my university. His eyes follow you like a laser beam,” the Prince drawled.

 

Sansa’s heart thudded against her chest as she recalled the emotions in Jon’s grey gaze earlier that evening in his room. “Of course his eyes will follow me. I’m wearing this very expensive necklace that is very important to his family.”

 

“And, you’re the first woman ever allowed to wear the symbol of his family’s legacy. It’s like Princess Diana wearing the crown jewels,” the Prince added.

 

But I won't be the last one, Sansa thought sadly. She was brought out of her reverie when she heard Jon’s voice beside her. “So, how’s the birthday girl? Enjoying your birthday party?”

 

“I love it,” the Princess enthused. “You even remembered my favorite color.”

 

Jon chuckled. “Wait until you see the fireworks.”

 

“Yes. Hard to believe that he pulled off this over the top soiree,” the Prince countered with feigned sarcasm. His expression was enough to tell Jon he was touched.

 

Jon’s phone beeped indicating he just received a text message. He dug his cell phone out of his pant’s pocket and read the message. His expression turned grim. “It’s Daario. Petyr’s on his way,” he murmured.

 

* * *

 

From the edge of the terrace where they were partly hidden by a wall of flowers and a fair distance away from the crowd, Sansa observed Petyr accompanied by Podrick and two bodyguards. He was the uncle she idolized until he turned bitter and cruel.

 

“Your Royal Highness,” Petyr bowed as the Prince shook his hands. “It’s an honor to be invited to your lovely wife’s birthday.”

 

“Welcome to Istanbul, Petyr,” Prince replied. Planting his hand on the Princess’s small back, he guided her forward. “Darling, let me introduce you to Petyr.”

 

Petyr smiled, bowed and kissed the Princess’s fingers. “Happy Birthday, your Highness.”

 

The Princess thanked him. “How was your flight from Switzerland?” 

 

“Just great. Your staff treated us like royalty.”

 

“Good. I believe you know these nice people.”

 

Jon with Sansa in tow, stepped from behind Prince.

 

“Petyr, I didn’t know you’re acquainted with my Prince,” Jon said in a deceptively low voice that belied the seething anger and disgust he felt for the man.

 

It took a few seconds for Petyr to gaze at Jon and Sansa before he turned pale as a ghost, his eyes fixed on the necklace.

 

As Petyr stood dumbfounded and unable to speak, the Prince addressed him in a laceratingly frigid voice, “You guaranteed that the necklace in your possession was real. But according to the expert I hired, the one you brought with you turned out to be a fake.”

 

Petyr’s eyes flared, his sneering face turning ugly with malice. He was almost apoplectic with rage. “But that’s impossible,” he spat out. "Your own people authenticated the necklace before you decided to buy it and I personally delivered it straight from the bank vault. Whatever my niece is wearing is definitely a copy of the real one.”

 

“I’m wearing the real necklace, Petyr,” Sansa said with conviction, gazing at her uncle with disappointment and pity.

 

Petyr came too close to her before Jon could stop him. “You,” Petyr hissed. “You and your whore of an aunt ruin everything I’ve worked hard for. Don't forget about Robin, Sansa. I will--”

 

"We know you drugged him, Petyr," Sansa said through gritted teeth. "But the medicine Robin is being given now is recovery pills. We won," she continued triumphantly.

 

Petyr was about to touch Sansa but Jon was faster, punching him with enough force that had him landing on his butt with a bloody nose. “You’re through, Petyr. Don’t you ever come near Sansa and Robin, or I'll have you killed before you ever get to see the inside of the jail.”

 

Petyr snarled with venom dripping out of his word, "You don't know what I'm capable of." He charged after Jon.

 

The Prince stepped in and rasped in his ear, "Think of the consequences if Sansa and Jon get to know that you had Robb and Talisa murdered just because he came to know the truth. Sansa will skin you alive." Petyr looked dead shocked to hear that. Signaling his security, the Prince's voice vibrated with authority as he said, “Hand him over to the police.”

 

The men grabbed Petyr and hustled him away.

 

As Petyr disappeared among the crowd bringing with him the cloud of tension and anger that hovered from the moment he arrived, an air of peace and relief washed over them.

 

“What a horrible man,” the Princess remarked. “I’m glad you helped Sansa get rid of him, darling,” she said to the Prince and turned to Sansa with concern evident in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

 

“I’m fine,” Sansa assured her. “I could have punched him myself but I didn’t want to ruin this gorgeous gown.”

 

“Yeah, she’s a tough lady,” Daario cut in.

 

Sansa froze when she saw the woman serenely standing beside Daario in a strapless yellow ruched gown. “Jeyne?”

 

Jeyne shrugged dainty shoulders. “Surprise!”

 

As realization dawned on her, Sansa scowled at Daario. “Did I not tell you she’s off limits?"

 

Jeyne came forward dragging Daario with her. “Don’t worry, he worships the ground I walk on.”

 

Sansa's eyes softened as she gazed at her best friend with affection. “Are you sure? He has the attention span of a gnat when it comes to women.”

 

“Positive.”

 

Throwing Daario another fulminating glance Sansa expressed, “You hurt her, and I’ll kick you where it hurts.”

 

“Wow, good luck, man," he said to Jon and turned to Sansa. "Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Daario responded in his usual flamboyant way.

 

“Why don’t we all go back to the party?" Prince said quietly.

 

Sansa flashed him a wry smile. “You go ahead, My flight is tomorrow morning. I have to pack.”

 

Jon turned deadly pale at that. Patting his shoulder, the Prince led the group to join the party already in full swing.

 

Sansa faced Jon now, with a knowing smile playing on her lips. The necklace was now in his possession, and the mission is completed. As far as she's concerned, the fate of Petyr was a foregone conclusion and bringing him down to his knees was just icing on the cake. At the moment, it was not Petyr who was occupying her mind.

 

The air sizzled between them with tension so palpable Sansa felt she was being incinerated from the inside. He curved his hands around her waist and pulled her against him. The desperation and hunger in his gleaming eyes seemed to devour her, hot and all-consuming. Afraid that he might see the misery in her eyes and how hopelessly in love she was with him, she looked down. Big mistake. He only brought her body closer to his. “Don't leave me,” he whispered raggedly against her ear.

 

Sansa closed her eyes, savoring the moment and filing it in her bank of memories. Finally, their adventure together has also come to an end, and it's now time for their final goodbye.

 

The silence between them stretched as they held each other for the last few moments before being separated.

 

Sansa leaned back and carded her fingers through his hair. With a dejected sigh, she whispered, “I'm sorry, Jon.”

 

“I can't live without you,” he rasped. Gripping her hips, he hauled her against his hard body. “I love you.”

 

“No, Jon, don't say things you don't mean,” she uttered weakly before he crushed her mouth with his like a starving man; possessive, demandingly hot. She lost all resistance and melted into him, her lips parting to welcome his kiss. Her legs wrapped around his waist of their own accord. Her hands raked through his hair, pushing herself against his ripped chest.

 

Without breaking the kiss, he paced across the room to a hidden alcove holding her tightly, an arm around her waist and his hand supporting her bottom. He slammed her against the door, and in a frenzied move, he lifted her dress and tore her underwear.

 

Sansa was like a fever in his blood, and she, on the other hand, was a slave to the sensual exploration of his powerful, sexy body, his seeking hands, his demanding mouth and warm tongue. Her fingers dug on the powerful bulge of his shoulders beneath his shirt as his mouth greedily explored her flesh.

 

He trailed open mouth kisses all the way down to her neck. Then he unzipped his jeans and yanked it down his legs leaving his engorged member to jump out enthusiastically leaking precum.

 

Sansa was aching to have him inside her. He was every woman’s fantasy. Seeing him turn wild with passion, her moist mouth parted, and her pupils dilated. Her breasts strained against her dress, begging for his the feel of his hands and mouth. When he finally entered her with a groan that reverberated in her ears, Sansa's angelic face turned wanton and seductively sexy.

 

She clung to him, holding onto the back of his neck. Planting her heels on his ass, she drew him deeper with every stroke and matching the rhythm of each thrust with her own.

 

Their breaths mingled in misty puffs. With a sobbing whimper, she sank her teeth into his shoulder, her body weightless and floating with rapture. A rush of indescribable pleasure rocked her into an explosive orgasm, her world tilted and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

 

Her body bucked and the pulsed around him. With one deep plunge, he was catapulted into a long, raging climax as he spilled his seed inside her.

 

They collapsed in each other’s arms basking in the afterglow of their most intense lovemaking. But they both knew it was much much more than that. He pulled her down gently and adjusted their clothes. She sighed against his chest, wanting to cry. She's going to miss him so much.

 

Jon nuzzled her hair and dropped kisses there, loving their silky softness. “Marry me, Sansa, if for no other reason than I love you,” he whispered huskily. “I love you so, so much.”

 

Sansa raised her face, her eyes welling up with tears. She could no longer hide her feelings for him. “You have to let me go, Jon. Don’t say things you don’t mean just so you can have me as a girlfriend.”

 

He brushed the tears from her cheeks. “Even at night, I reach out for you in my sleep. I must have loved you for a long time but I was too scared to admit it. I love you, Sansa. And I'll say it again and again till you believe me. Marry me, let's make a life together.”

 

“I love you too,” she whispered, tracing his jaw with her finger. “The only reason I wanted to leave was that I could not bear to stay knowing you didn’t love me. You’ve said it before that love was a wasted emotion.”

 

“I was a fool,” he murmured thickly, drawing her almost off the floor in his excitement.

 

“You are." She smiled teasingly. "And yes, I will marry you.” Her smile radiating happiness went straight to his heart. "Jon, do you realize we just fucked the hell out of each other in the Princess's birthday party?"

 

With a triumphant smile, he shifted, pushing her back against the wall. “So you want to stop?” He asked in between kissing her.

 

Sansa smiled cheekily. "Oh, I think you know," she whispered and switched positions with him, kissing him fiercely with all that she got.

 

* * *

 

  
**Three months later**

 

Sansa stood before the mirror resplendently beautiful in a V-neck, body fitted gown of crepe satin and Chantilly lace featuring a sheer panel with delicate scrolled embroidery at the back. She touched the Diamond Star necklace reverently and smiled thinking of last night.

 

_They had decided to spend a quiet evening at Jon’s penthouse in London, the place they called home for the past three months after they returned from Istanbul._

 

_Lady was snoring contentedly on her lap. “Honey, she’ll be the star of the show tomorrow. Our little lady’s wearing her crystal collar.”_

 

_Jon nuzzled against her, planting an open mouth kiss on the tantalizing curve of her neck. “I love it when you call me honey,” he whispered. He tickled Lady’s belly. “What do you think Lady? Should we give her the wedding gift?”_

 

_Sansa swiveled her head and gaped at him with surprise. “You’re giving me a wedding gift?”_

 

_He reached underneath the sofa, retrieved a velvet box and presented it to her. “For my bride with all my love.”_

 

_She gasped when she saw the Diamond Star nestled inside. “Jon, why are you giving me the necklace? My mother gifted it to Lyanna.”_

 

_Jon picked the necklace and slipped it around her neck._

 

_He knelt in front of her, placing his hands on either side of her hips. “And now, as Lyanna's rightful son, I give it to my wife as a wedding gift. This necklace played a big role in bringing us together, and you love it. I’ve already commissioned a jeweler to create a duplicate of the Diamond Star to replace the original one used as a priced display.”_

 

_Sansa hugged him tightly. “I love you,” she whispered raggedly._

 

Robin’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Ready, Shanza?” he asked.

 

Sansa smiled at him. “I’m so ready,” she murmured and kissed his cheek. She linked her arm with his, and together they walked down the aisle toward Jon, her handsome groom. Looking back, it's been one hell of a ride, but she wouldn't trade it for anything.

 

 

**THE END**

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


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